Their Hidden Star
by elemender0512
Summary: Aurora has just entered the Wizarding world, and there is so much to learn. Little does she know that Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall are hiding something that is key to discovering herself. Still updating, would welcome any comments!
1. Chapter 1

A handsome brown tawny owl flew against the mountains, braving the gradually strengthening snow, rain, and wind as it neared its destination. A young, underage, half-blood child had been detected performing magic, and that time of the year had come again; letters of acceptance to be delivered to the rising first-years at Hogwarts. Letters of muggle-born students would be delivered by a staff member, while half-blood and pure-bloods would receive theirs by owl.

And this was his quest – to deliver an acceptance letter to a lonely family – or so he thought - living in the sharp, isolated mountains. He could not recall the last time post had been delivered here.

And at last, the weather cleared, and he saw a tiny teepee with a fire brewing right outside of it. How the fire managed to burn in this weather, he did not know. But the important thing was, he had seen his target. And it was not a family – it was just a dark-haired girl of no more than 11 years of age, probably waiting.

With a hoot, he landed on one of the teepee's sticks, and stuck out the leg with the letter. The girl looked at him curiously, before taking the letter from his foot.

She did not open the letter first. Instead, she offered him a tiny wooden cup of water. "Rough journey, you must've had. Hungry?"  
This seemed like a dream. Rough journey was an understatement. It had been brutal, and he was starving and exhausted, every muscle of him screaming aloud.

He nodded, and dipped his beak into her water. She reach into the teepee and pulled out a small platter of porridge. He looked away in disgust.

"Oh right, owls….probably carnivore."

She set the water down and stepped away, closing her eyes, and spreading her hands. She let her senses flow out of her and let her powers detect anything in a half-a-mile radius….

And finally, a faint sound of 3 tiny creatures squeaking in the area right outside her storm. She ran – far too quickly for a normal human – and grabbed the 3 mice before they could flee. She held them up by the tail for the tawny owl.

"I don't usually do this…but is this enough?"

The tawny owl hooted in delight as she set the mice in a tiny ice cage – he had not noticed it before – and left the mice for him, turning to read her letter.

"Miss A. Cole

Peak of Ben Nevis

Grampion Mountains, Scotland"

That was what the envelope said. Curiosity filled her as who might know her precise location. She had left that damned orphanage an entire 3 years ago, and the only people who thought they knew her were the village people, who though she was a perfectly normal little girl who ran errands for her weirdo family who decided to settle in the middle of the mountains.

But that was not who she was. And to be honest, she did not know who she was, either. She had never had a real home. Lord Moldyvort – that was what she called the person who was labeled her "guardian"– had kept her in his dungeon for 6 long years, until he had "gotten too busy to 'take care' of her" and dumped her on the doorstep of that orphanage, which he said was his home when he was a kid.

And what a home it was. The owners were negligent, and if they decided to pay attention, were cruel, and especially abusive to her – because, they said, her "guardian" had been horrible.

She had only been able to stand less than 2 years before one night, she lost control, shocking everyone and probably sending a few people to the hospital –with he uncontrollable powers and fled. She ran on and on, avoiding any human she saw, and only surviving by literally eating grass and sometimes stealing from vendors.

And she kept on going until she reached the mountains, where barely anyone lived. It suited her – she could lose control without having to try to explain, and she could savor the freedom the fresh mountain air gave her. She had spent the last 3 years alone, barely talking to anyone except for the villagers in Fort William, and taught herself to control the powers.

But all along, her biggest question was who she was….the only thing Lord Voldemort had told her was that her name was Aurora, she was currently 11 years old, and she was worth nothing. He had failed to inform her of her birthday – she just celebrated it every year on New Year's – or of any parent she had, if she did have any. Her surname was the name that the matriarch of the orphanage had given her – that was the last name of every other pre-abandoned kid there – in other words, kids who had turned up out of nowhere.

But the biggest question was how she had stood out, even amongst her peers. Other kids had just gotten along easily. She had tried getting along, tried to act normal. But things had started happening – things catching on fire when she became angry, or blizzards whenever she was sad, or sobbing.

That was why she loved her isolated home. She had trained herself and practiced her powers until she had some control over them.

Perhaps this letter would have some answers. She had never seen owl post before.

With a barely hopeful eagerness, she tore open the letter. But she could not stand any of the gibberish inside.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

Dear Ms. Cole,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

 _Minerva McGonagall_

Deputy Headmistress

Dumbledore? Hogwarts? Wizardry? McGonagall? Who the heck were these things? And the second page of the letter contained none other but more weird words.

So she did the only thing that seemed logical. She ripped a page from her notebook in the teepee, and wrote back,

To whom it may concern,

I'm sorry if this seems weird, but I am not sure if this is a prank or if it is actually real. I've never heard of anything like this, you see, since I live in the mountains. If you could send an explanation, that would be very much appreciated. I apologize for any trouble this may have caused. I live near Fort Williams.

Thank you,

Aurora Cole

With a flourish, she scribbled her signature, and tucked the folded paper into one of the envelopes she kept in one of the boxes inside of the teepee – it was not everyday that she sent a letter, but she had traded for the envelopes from the village just in case she had to send a letter. She would have thought it was to a normal person, not through owl post.

She turned back to the owl, who had finished eating the mice and discarded their remains in the cage.

She tried not to flinch as she tied the letter onto his leg, and avoided his look of curiosity.

"It might not be normal, but I'm not normal, you see?" she said. The owl nodded, and flew off into the sky.

Her mood had increased greatly by the arrival of this letter, and instead of raw, unshed anger, was now though. The weather was now a cloudy day with a hint of sunlight peaking through the clouds, with a gentle wind rolling through the mountain grass.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore was reading the cover of today's _Daily Prophet_ when he heard the door open. His deputy headmistress – and also so much more – strode in, her robe trailing behind her, a formidable figure of confidence and prestige.

Minerva McGonagall, his former protégé, looked at him as she made her way into the room. She was stunningly beautiful, with flowing black hair (now always kept in a bun), jade green eyes that shone with intelligence, and a light, well-defined complexion – dazzling, in his opinion, and it was no wonder that men every so often still tried to set a date with her. But she had declined all and thrown herself into her work. Many viewed her as too weird – a witch with no personal ambition whatsoever, with too much of a passion for magic. But only Albus, with a couple select others, knew the real reason.

 _He waited patiently at the top of the stairs, waiting as the first of the first years began to trickle in. He watched as they slowly walked, unsure of themselves but in awe of the magnificence of Hogwarts. He patiently observed each child; all of their eyes were bright, betraying nervousness to overexcitement. At last, it seemed, they had all filed through._

 _"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said, raising his arms. "I am Professor Dumbledore, and on behalf of the school, we are so glad to have you here."_

 _Everybody was quiet, anticipating the next. "Before you enjoy the start-of-the-term banquet, you will be sorted into one of four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each of those houses will be your family, and you will earn or lose points based on your accomplishments or wrongdoings. Now, the Sorting Ceremony is about to start. If you will, now, form a line, follow me, please!"_

 _He heard the familiar mutters of amazement at their first sight of the Great Hall, which turned back to queasiness and nervousness as soon as he placed the Hat on the stool, and it had finished its song._

 _"When I call your name, please come and sit on the stool," he instructed, smiling comfortingly at their nervous faces._

 _"Abbot, Merida!"_

 _The Hat had barely touched the girl's honey blonde hair when it shouted, "Hufflepuff!"_ _  
_ _She smiled nervously, and then trotted off to her new table._

 _"Bones, Edgar!"_

 _"Hufflepuff!"_

 _"Burke, Caractacus!"_

 _"Slytherin!"_

 _Some of the students looked proud to be in a House, while other students looked more or less than surprised. But the attention of the night, however, went to a black-haired girl whose eyes resembled lasers. At once, anyone would notice that she was not someone to be messed with._

 _"McGonagall, Minerva!"_

 _So, this was Isobel Ross's daughter (Isobel had given up her magic to marry a Muggle), and he could certainly see the resemblance. The gradually sharpening features, the way she carried herself, and the intelligence in her eyes was obvious._

 _He dropped the hat on her head, and unlike her peers, the hat stayed on her head, for a while. He almost thought the hat was broken until he noticed her changing expression, thoughtful, if not a bit nervous._

 _After the 2 minute mark, whispers had begun to grow out in the hall. She drowned out the whispers and looked straight ahead, listening carefully to what the Hat was saying._

 _"You probably wouldn't be Slytherin, you respect the rules far too much. No, no, don't think they're bad, it's a good thing. Although you could go to Hufflepuff, your strengths lie in other places besides kindness. No, I'm not saying you're rude. But you could be in Ravenclaw, you know? Your mother was there, I believe. Or Gryffindor, possibly? There is so much strength and courage in here, you know…_

 _Curious, curious…I am stumped, I confess. And you do not seem to have an opinion, which I find highly annoying. Dear me…let me think,"_

 _The first Hatstall in centuries. 5 minutes had past, and she was still sitting there._

 _"If you were in Ravenclaw, you would be the smartest among your peers, I am sure. But in Gryffindor, you would be so much more, assuming you don't lose your intelligence, haha! Your bravery and wit would make you Gryffindor. But I'm not sure, still…"_

 _Minerva was getting tired of feeling unwanted. She looked around nervously, and everyone just stared back as curiously._

 _Until she found a pair of twinkling bright blue eyes, and at once, she felt reassured, and that she was special in her own way._

 _"Anything's fine," she thought._

 _"Not an opinion? Well, a Ravenclaw would decide to research the houses for an opinion, but the courage of letting me take the choice makes you GRYFFINDOR!"_

 _Dumbledore took the hat off her dark head, and she stood up unsteadily as she made her way to the table._

 _As she looked back, she had smiled at him…_

Minerva's business-like voice jolted him back to reality. "All of the letters have been sent, and Pomona's still trying the convince the last Muggle family to accept it – the boy seems to already like it anyway. The only acceptance letter we didn't get was from the other girl who lives in Scotland – Aurora Cole, her name was, I think."

"Excellent, excellent, work, as always, dear Minerva," he said, stroking his beard. She glared at him stonily, and he sighed. And this girl's name…it was only a painful reminder of what they had gone through. It had been 8 years since their…tragedy, as one would so kindly put it, and none of them had ever recovered.

"She would have gotten her acceptance letter this week," Minerva said, her eyes watering. Like always, she knew what he was thinking, even if she had never taken Legilimency. He stood up, and stared at the window behind his chair, which had a full view of the castle and the campus.

"Yeah, she would have…I'm sorry, Minerva," he said, looking at her, eyes showing grief beyond tears.

She took a deep breath before replying. "It's not your fault, Dumbledore," she said quietly. Both of them took in the silence, with Dumbledore hating the fact that she called him Dumbledore, and not Albus, as she used to so affectionately.

"Hang on," she said suddenly, going beside him to the window. "What's that?"

An owl was now making its way toward them. Dumbledore opened the window, allowing a gust of wind as well as a handsome tawny owl to enter his office.

"Kairo…thank you. Now go rest in the Owlery." Dumbledore said, as soon he had untangled the letter on the creature's leg.

Kairo hooted, before flying off again.

They both looked at the envelope in his hand. "Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," it read in a slightly slanted but elegantly neat scrawl. He opened it, and it revealed a Muggle piece of notebook paper with a paragraph of quickly-written words on it that-

"It looks like your handwriting," said Dumbledore, but Minerva looked at him incredulously.

"How did you know I was going to say that?" she said.

"I didn't," he said, returning to the letter, opening it.

He read it out loud.

"To whom it may concern,

I'm sorry if this seems weird, but I am not sure if this is a prank or if it is actually real. I've never heard of anything like this, you see, since I live in the mountains. If you could send an explanation, that would be very much appreciated. I apologize for any trouble this may have caused. I live near Fort Williams.

Thank you,

Aurora Cole"

He looked at Minerva, who stood up and had started making her way to the door. "Maybe she's adopted, or her parents may be from another magic school. I will do the Muggle-born protocol, then," she said.

"No," he said. She stopped.

"What?"

"No, Minerva, as in you will not visit her."

"But she – "

"I mean, you should rest yourself, before the term starts. You've been through a lot of these things. I will do this one." He clarified.

Minerva still looked unsure. "Just this one," he clarified more gently, "And then you can go back to overworking yourself."

Minerva nodded reluctantly. "If you insist," she said, opening the door. She paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, Albus," she said, a glistening tear dripping down her cheek.

And then she was gone.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the pain and the joy of those 3 years they had been together…when they _all_ had been a family.

He prepared himself for a journey to Northern Scotland.


	3. Chapter 3

Finding the girl had indeed proved a difficult task. Dumbledore had Apparated to Fort Williams in what he thought was perfectly normal Muggle clothing,and asked around for the girl called "Aurora Cole". Everybody he had asked had looked uneasy at the question, until he met a bookstore owner and his wife.

"Aurora Cole? A little girl who lives in the mountains?"

Dumbledore was surprised for a moment. Her letter had clearly state Fort Williams. But if that was the nearest Aurora Cole, then it would have to suffice for now.  
"Er…yes," he said.

"Oh! She's a joy to be around, and comes to town every so often. Loves to hang around our bookstore, though,"

"Interesting," he said. "But I was wondering, Mr. and Mrs., if you knew where she lives?"

The couple looked at each other. "We're not sure, but she always comes along the Pony Track, you know…" he looked around before whispering, "that leads to Ben Nevis!"

Dumbledore smiled as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation instead of talking about climbing the highest point in all of Britain. "Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. I must go now, I'm afraid." He said.

They bade him a good day, and he set off to a secluded corner – well out of sight of any Muggles - before Apparating to the peak of Ben Nevis, the highest point on the British Isles.

The feeling of the wind breezing and the grass rippling greeted him before the sight did. He had the slight feeling of another human presence…so he looked to the left of his new location, sat a girl of no more than 11, wearing worn-out trousers and a huge, faded, plaid sweater, lying down with her nose buried in a thick book.

"Excuse me," he said aloud. The girl looked up from her book, and what he saw shocked Dumbledore.

The girl was a spitting image of a young Minerva, except her eyes were an electrically piercing, calming, blue instead of jade green. But besides that, her flowing, silky, black hair, and unwavering, thoughtful, gaze – he almost thought it was a younger Minerva who had changed her eye color.

But it was the fact that he knew Minerva too well to know that she would change her style, unlike many of the fashion-obsessed witches who had completely transformed themselves. If it were not for that piece of knowledge, he would think that he had gone back in time to some weird universe.

 _It was his fifth class with her, and already, she had promised big things, paying attention to every word he said and answering questions on the most complicated subjects. Now, he thought, even though she had long been ready, her classmates had finally; the first years could now attempt practical work._

 _"I know I am always repeating this, but Transfiguration is one of the most complex branches of magic there is, but I have no doubt that anyone of you could accomplish it with your best efforts. You have taken a substantial amount of notes on the subject, and I feel that it is time for us to start with the wandwork. With that said, let us delve into this wonderful world!"_

 _He smiled comfortingly, and some of the students smiled back. They had ranged from prepared to excited to nervous. Minerva, however, seemed calmly prepared, but still hung on to his every word, and had a look in her eye that said, "I dare you to give me something I can't do."_

 _"Our first task, it seems, is to transform a normal Muggle match into a sewing needle. Watch me first, and pay attention to the wand motion,"_

 _Dumbledore casually flicked his wand, but made sure to emphasize the lower arm movement. He looked up again, and there were looks of awe and determination. Minerva, however, seemed to replaying his performance in her mind, trying to replicate it mentally._

 _"Now, this is one of the simplest spells you will learn. Give it a try, please!"_

 _And the room had immediately filled with the waves of wands, and the frustration of students once they could not do it._

 _He glanced at Minerva. She was muttering to herself, waving her wand, trying to imitate his movements. Many of the other students had already become increasingly irritated._

 _She waved her arm, her lower arm movements precisely correct to the point where it was textbook perfection. It took a little more than a fraction of a second, but there was a shiny, silver needle, with a hole to thread a string on its end._

 _He was shocked. Never before in his history at Hogwarts had one student done it on their first attempt. The people, around her seemed equally shocked._

 _"And we have our first success! Miss McGonagall, great job!"_ _  
_ _And Minerva had smiled at him again…_

Dumbledore disguised his shock into a muffled cough and smiled at the girl. "Hello, Miss Cole," he said pleasantly. "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

The girl's eyes widened in understanding. "You're the headmaster of…of Hogwarts,"

"Indeed, I am," he said.

The girl stuck out her hand. He shook it. "If I can, may I enter your home?" he said.

She paused for a moment. "I would be honored," she said, "but please, don't be surprised," she said modestly.

"I've had plenty of surprises in my life," Dumbledore chuckled.

The girl regarded him a curious expression, so much like the one that Minerva used to give him when she was a student that he almost cried out. But he restrained himself as she closed her book and stood up, and began following her north.

They had only walked a minute before a teepee appeared in the distance. He thought it was some kind of old Native thing, but to his surprise, the girl disappeared inside and appeared again, this time without her book.

"I thought we were going to your house," he said, trying not to sound like a stalker.

She smiled, understanding. "This is home," she replied.


	4. Chapter 4

Dumbledore had to keep his eyes from widening.

"And where are your parents? I would like very much to speak with them."

"I have no parents or guardians of any kind," she said, her voice suddenly much icier, much more conserved and unwilling.

"You live alone?" he asked gently.

"No..." the girl said slowly, before whistling loudly. It was answered with the cry of a bird of prey. The girl stuck out her arm, and sure enough, moments later, a humongous peregrine falcon landed on it. Dumbledore was surprised on how such a tiny figure could support the weight of the fastest bird in the world.

"If you count Perry," she said, giggling, as the falcon nudged her cheek.

Dumbledore smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. He could not help but feel sorry for this little girl who had spent who-knows-how many years in the company of a just peregrine falcon.

Perry gazed curiously at Dumbledore.

"Oh," she said, remembering her guest. "This is Mr. Dumbledore, he's the headmaster of Hogwarts – remember that letter I was telling you about?"

The falcon made a noise that was somewhere between a chirp and a hoot.

"He's not a bad guy," Aurora said, giggling. "Anyways, you should go hunt a bit before it gets too dark."

Like he understood her, the falcon nodded, spread his wings, and flew off.

The girl sat down on the grass, and raised her palm at the empty fireplace between them. She closed her eyes for a moment, and in that second Dumbledore caught a glimpse of her mind – dozens of images, split-second views of torture, pleasure, and misery…a jumble of emotions – before they all united into one spark of – was it anger? – and boom – there was a fire going.

Dumbledore couldn't help but be intrigued. This was the second he met 11-year-old who could control her powers. However, unlike Tom Riddle, she at least had some decency, and she was intriguing in a good way.

"You know, you could have just used a match," he said.

"Don't have 'em," she said tersely, just the way Minerva would have said it. Short and to the point, not a word unnecessary.

"Or you could have asked me to do it," he continued.

Now it was her turn to look surprised. "You can create fire, too?" she asked.

He replied by streaming a jet of water from his wand, extinguishing the flame, and then waved his wand, recreating the fire, except this time it burned better.

"What even is this, Mr.… Dumbledore?" she said, now obviously interested.

He chuckled. "It is called magic," he said. "But please, call me Professor Dumbledore,"

"Okay…and does that mean…that I can…um…do magic?" aurora was obviously shaken by the fact that she had finally met someone who had her abilities, who understood, and an excitement began to build up inside her.

"Yes, that means you are a witch."

She stared into the fire, letting its intense heat wash over her for a moment. "It just doesn't seem real...magic is well…magic, and it shouldn't be possible."

"But have you ever wondered the reason for your abilities?"  
"Yes, but it seemed like just a set of weird coincidences or some scientific mutation."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I won't try to understand such Muggle complexities. However, I can assure you it is magic and you have been accepted into Hogwarts based on that."  
"Muggle?"

"Non-magical."

"And is Hogwarts…are there other kids like me there?"

"Of course, it is a school of magic."

She set a small kettle of water over the fire.

Dumbledore spoke first. "So, Miss Cole, would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself?"

She sighed. She hated talking about herself, and whenever the villagers asked, she just fabricated a tale. But this man had understood her, so, she reasoned, he at least deserved the right to know the truth.

"What do you want to know?" she mumbled.

"How about your age and your birthday first?" he asked, trying to keep conversation pleasant.

"I'm 11 years old, and…um…my birthday is January 1," she replied. She did not want to appear dumb and not even know her own birthday.

He raised an eyebrow, and she immediately knew that he had detected her lie. "I guess you can tell I'm not saying everything," she sighed.

Dumbledore, since the very first moment, had wanted to know more about this girl…especially her past. In some way, his first impression was that she was somehow connected, in a way, to the tragedy 8 years ago.

"Um…I really don't know when my birthday is," she admitted. "My previous guardians never bothered to tell me,"

"If you don't mind, Miss Cole," he said gently, "would you tell me about your past?"

She looked at him. "Why should I trust you?" she said, suddenly feeling very gullible about sharing her secrets.

"Because, I, like you, can do magic," he said simply. He waved his wand, and a shower of starry sparks appeared in the gradually darkening sky.

"You were accepted into Hogwarts because you demonstrated magical ability. Hogwarts is a place for those students; it is a school of magic," he continued. "I am here to help. You can trust me, and I promise you, I am telling the truth."

She stared into his eyes for a moment, as if trying to detect any trickery. But he was being sincere - so she decided to trust him, and hope she wouldn't regret it. Sighing, she laid back on the grass, hands underneath her head, and looked up into the sky.

"What do you want to know?" she said.

"Everything…" he replied, "from the moment you can remember."

She took a deep breath. "I don't remember my parents, really, but my first memories were of a pale man with red eyes. He told me to call him My Lord, and he was always surrounded by this group of ugly people who always called him Master. I don't think he was my dad – I don't have red eyes, do I?" she asked anxiously.

Dumbledore chuckled, if not a bit nervously. "Of course you don't. Your eyes are blue."  
She smiled slightly in response. "He never told me my birthday, but I do remember thinking that the fireworks every year were for me…" she shook her head sadly. "Anyway, around the time I was 6, Lord, who was labeled as my guardian, took me out of the dungeons where he kept me and made me walk an entire 2 weeks to this shabby town.

He left me on the doorstep of this really ugly building and told me it had been his home, and it would be the best place ever. His last words said that he would be waiting for me after my training, which I don't understand."

Pausing for a moment, she continued.

"A super drunk woman opened the door later that day and took me in – I know her as Ms. Cole. She's not my mother, she just puts that name onto any kid who doesn't have a last name. That place was an orphanage, and it was also a torture machine for me.

It was there where I realized that I didn't fit in, and that I had…magic, if that's what you called it. So, about 2 years ago, I fled, and ran like a panicked chicken until I found this mountain…I met Perry and the villagers of Fort William, and I've been here ever since."

She finished her story, and then looked at Dumbledore, who had the most interesting expression on his face.

"Er…professor Dumbledore? Is there anything wrong?" she said.

That shook Dumbledore out of his trance. "No, no, of course not," he said absentmindedly.

And then he asked the question he had been dying to ask for the last hour. "This is my last question…" he said cautiously. (Fire away, she had muttered) "Do you remember anything before your Lord?"

The girl closed her eyes, and Albus was in awe of the similarities she shared with Minerva with that expression of deepest thought.

"I'm not sure…but sometimes I hear a lot of shouting when I dream, and lots of bright red and green lights flashing around…total chaos…" she murmured. "It's not too clear, anyways, so it was probably just a repetitive dream, nothing else," she said hastily.

Dumbledore smiled weakly. "Sometimes dreams can be true," he said softly.

Aurora eyed him curiously. "I think it's, 'sometimes dreams can come true,'" she said.

Dumbledore had to chuckle. This was the Minerva way to reply – not afraid to contradict someone for her own opinion. "Well, forgive me for my memory slip," he said lightly, not wanting to reveal the truth just yet. Luckily, Aurora, in her innocent, thoughtful mind, seemed not to notice.

"You're forgiven," she said, grinning. "Tea?"

"That would be very nice," he said, accepting a cup of earl grey tea from her. They both took a sip.

"Well, do you still have your letter?" he asked.


	5. Chapter 5

She nodded, and extracted a sloppily folded sheet of paper from her pocket.

"Good. Under normal circumstances, your family would accompany you to buy your supplies, but you are a special case," he said.

She smiled ruefully. "I'm assuming I can't buy this at your average general store,"

Dumbledore smiled back, his eyes twinkling in the firelight. "Quite right, Aurora. You would get them from Diagon Alley, in London. Just ask Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron."

She stared at the piece of paper. "Um… I don't know if it is possible, but could you send anyone to help me?"

Dumbledore smiled, the first real smile that night. "I, personally, would be honored to accompany you," he said.

"Really?" she said.

"Of course, really. Do you think I am lying?" He asked, his eyes merry.

Aurora was beyond happy. She finally had something to do. Instinctively, she got up and threw her arms around him.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Dumbledore was happy, too. He was more than sure that this was the solution to make their tragedy into a fairy tale. He just couldn't wait to tell Minerva.

He returned the hug, for just a split second, before she let go. "Best you get to sleep now, Aurora," he said. "Hang on, where's your bed?" he asked, confused.

"It's right here," she said, pulling out a quilt from the teepee. "I like to sleep in the grass, especially when it's not too cold. It's a great place for observing constellations."

As much as Albus wanted to yell or cry for her to sleep in a better place, he knew she was content here. So, he conjured a mattress for himself and listened as her soft, deep breaths, became rhythmic.

He then conjured a Patronus that carried a message in a uncontainable, excited voice. "Meet me at the entrance to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning."

 _Minerva had scarcely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall as she walked from the trains when she heard a voice call,_

 _"Ah, Miss McGonagall!"_

 _Professor Dumbledore was calling over the heads of the crowd, and, curiously, she fought her way through the crowd._

 _"It's good to see you again. I would like a word in my office, if you please,"_

 _Professor Dumbledore was a kind teacher, if not a bit nuts. That was why there was only 2 reasons she could be in his office: to be in a detention or to be tutored. The term had barely started, so what did he have to say?_

 _These thoughts whirled through her head as she followed his tall frame, made even taller by the pointed hat, and even more obvious by his long auburn hair, through the entering crowds, to the familiar Transfiguration corridor._

 _"Miss McGonagall, I have been thinking about the request you made to me last year," he said, once she had sat down on the opposite side of the desk._

 _"Yes, I understand, even if you don't want – "_

 _He held up a hand to silence her._

 _"On the contrary, Miss McGonagall, I have every intention of helping you," he said, blue eyes twinkling. "You have certainly gone above the expectations for it; inventing the Patronus messaging system, or creating the Hardening Spell,_ duro. _Winning the_ Most Promising Newcomer Award. _And I would not hesitate to add that Professor Dippet says thank you for giving him the gargoyle, and the Ministry thanks you for your innovative ideas,"_

 _Minerva could not help but blush a little bit. The most powerful wizard of the century had noticed her accomplishments? No, he would always be better than her. But in another sense, she was hopeful._

" _So that means, you'll help me try and become Animagus?" she asked._

 _Dumbledore smiled. "It would be my honor to guide you," he said._

 _"Thank_ you so much."  
 _"I believe, our first lesson can be on the third Saturday of the term, which I believe you are free. Come to the Transfiguration classroom on the 3rd corridor in the fourth floor._

 _"I can be there," Minerva said, barely containing her excitement._

 _"Well, then, since that's settled, let us enjoy the Welcoming Feast!"_

And he, too fell asleep, content for the first time in 8 years.


	6. Chapter 6

The following morning proved to be the start of a new chapter for Aurora Cole. She got up and whistled for Perry (which, unfortunately, had woken Dumbledore up) and sorrowfully explained to him that she would come back soon. Then, seeing as they could not just leave her belongings there, Dumbledore had conjured a neat leather drawstring purse, place a so-called "Undetectable Extension Charm" on it, and placed all of her few possessions in it.

They had then, with the help of a "Portkey", teleported to a secluded corner in London, where Aurora had hurried to follow Dumbledore's long strides. Luckily, he was quite easy to spot in a crowd of Londoners. They had entered the Leaky Cauldron, and then exited to a wall of bricks, where he had tapped his wand and then they had expanded to reveal a completely hidden community. Bustling and completely active, it was hard to imagine how it was even concealed.

Dumbledore told her to wait by a bookshop – Flourish and Blott's, it was called – and said that he had to find someone, and wouldn't take long. She had taken much interest in observing the titles of these books.

But for Dumbledore, his eagerness was practically fighting to get out of him. He saw Minerva's familiar tall, slightly slanted witch hat and could barely keep himself from embracing her and kissing her right on the spot.

It took all his control to just put his hand on her shoulder and say (instead of wrapping her in a hug and yelling), "I think I've found her,"

"What?" asked Minerva dumbly.

He shook her. "I think I've found her. Aurora. Our child. _Ours._ " He repeated.

"Wh-what? No way, Albus, you've had too much mead to drink again. She's dead and gone," she said miserably.

"No, Minerva! The child I found, she's 11 and her story matches ours. If she isn't Aurora, I wouldn't be here," he said.

Minerva met his earnest gaze with a sort of disbelief. "Show me," she whispered.

Albus literally dragged Minerva through the crowds in Diagon Alley, paying no attention to the whispers of people around them, wondering why the heck Dumbledore and McGonagall would be in Diagon Alley.

 _"Minerva McGonagall!" announced Headmaster Dippet as he handed McGonagall her certificate. It was official. Minerva had graduated, and from what he had heard, she had already been offered several posts by the Ministry of Magic and several overseas employers._

 _He clapped, along with everyone else as the ceremony continued, down the list of seventh years…_

 _And soon enough, it had ended, with a sultry-looking Slytherin witch_ (Blaise Zabini's mum, IDK what her name is). _He went straight back to his office, determined to wrap up for the summer._

 _He had scarcely just arrived when he heard a rapt knock on the door._

 _"Enter," he called._

 _And Minerva had entered, still in her graduation robes. "Miss McGonagall," he said. "Shouldn't you be packing right now?"_

 _He had wanted to spare himself the pain of looking at her beautiful form again and feeling the pain of her leaving all again. His feelings for her would only keep growing if he kept on seeing her._

 _"I've mostly done packing, but I'm here." She said. "I wanted to say, thank you, Professor Dumbledore, for all that you've done for me."_

 _He felt his heart lift a bit at her words as he met her blazing jade green eyes, which held such a bright future in them._

 _He smiled, and the twinkle in his eye came naturally. "Of course. I did it in a heartbeat, and it was only my pleasure."_

 _He had hoped she would catch the "in a heartbeat" allusion, but her face did not betray any of that. She simply smiled, the widest he had seen since she had accomplished her Animagus transformation._

 _"It means so much to me…and now, to think, that I'm leaving Hogwarts now," said she, her gaze falling down to her feet._

 _"Minerva," he said. She looked up at the renewed use of her first name. "You have such a bright future ahead of you. You will accomplish so much, but I hope, in midst of that, if you return to Hogwarts – which I hope you do – there will always be a place here for you."_

 _And she had looked at him with the affection of a student-teacher relationship but it was nothing more. She smiled._

 _And then someone else had knocked at the door. It was one her friends that had often come to her for help. "Minerva, we're waiting for you!" she called._

 _"Coming in a moment," she had said. And then she had looked back at him, smiled once more with her eyes, and she left, her hair dancing behind her. And he had embedded that image in his mind, that last image of her._

 _2 months later, he had found out that she had accepted one of the most prestigious jobs at the Ministry – Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was the most un-Minerva-like job he could imagine her working at, but if she was happy there, then let it be. And a year later, he had been appointed to headmaster, and he had never looked back._

"Look in Flourish and Blott's," he murmured under his breath.

Aurora stood by the window of the bookstore, patiently reading _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and memorizing every word as she read on. She felt someone's gaze on her, and she looked out.

Dumbledore was standing with an extraordinarily beautiful woman, whose posture seemed to indicate royalty. Only her witch's hat and robes seemed to indicate otherwise.

Aurora waved, as Dumbledore indicated for her to come out to him.

She left the store, not before receiving many curious glances from customers, and made her way over to the headmaster.

"Aurora, this is Professor McGonagall, my deputy headmistress and the head of the Trnasfiguration department."

The woman beside him wore an expression that immediately dictated that she was boss. Aurora could not help but feel intimidated as she met her analytical jade green gaze, but kept her head held high as she remembered herself, wanting to present herself in the best way possible.

She smiled, trying not to look too scared or too aggressive. "It's nice to meet you."

She received a smile that looked forced. "No, it's my pleasure. We are eager to have you at Hogwarts,"

"Thank you. I'm excited to be there!" Aurora said.

McGonagall gave her a fraction of a smile, and then looked at Dumbledore before saying, "I'm sorry, I must get back to the school right now."

"See you, Professor McGonagall!" Aurora said awkwardly. She did not notice Albus's pleading look at her, begging her to stay. But McGonagall had vanished.

Aurora looked at Dumbledore before muttering, "What's next?"


	7. Chapter 7

And she had enjoyed that afternoon running around Diagon Alley, staring in awe at the new, exquisitely strange items in the stores. Dumbledore could not help but chuckle.

Their last stop had been Ollivander's wand shop, which, according to Dumbledore, it was a tradition to make the wand to final purchase. The bell tinkled as they entered, and Dumbledore greeted his old friend with a smile.

"Dumbledore! How nice!" said an old man with sparkling eyes and somewhat twisted teeth.

Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. "It's good to see you again, Ollivander. I am here to accompany a new student today."

"Of course! And this must be…?"  
"This is Miss Cole," he said simply, giving Aurora a light push forward. She timidly stepped forward.

"Hello," she said awkwardly.

"Ah yes. First year?"

"Yup."

He chuckled. "Interesting," he said in a way that made her only too curious. She did not miss the questioning glance he sent at Dumbledore, who continued smiling pleasantly.

He pulled out a long silver tape measure, and said, "Miss Cole, if you please. Which arm is your wand arm?"

"Umm…my right hand?" she assumed it meant her dominant hand.

It measured her arm by itself as Mr. Ollivander climbed a ladder with surprising agility for his age and carefully chose a box from the thousands of others meticulously stacked on the shelf.

"Try this. Fir and unicorn hair, 12 inches, stiff." She had barely raised her arm when the wand left her hand, put back into its box and onto its place on the shelf.

"That was very like your mother's wand, you know. But, I don't think it's yours." He said absentmindedly.

"You knew my mother?" she said sharply. She had been dying to find her parentage for the last 5 years.

She did not miss the troubled glance he sent at Dumbledore.

"That is a subject for another day," he said, indicating that the subject was over, before she could utter another word.

"Sycamore and thestral hair, 9.5 inches, willowy." The same result as the first wand.

And then he pulled out a beautiful third wand. She immediately felt a connection with it even before she touched it. "Elder and dragon heartstring, 11.5 inches, nice and supple." She waved the wand the same way she had seen Dumbledore, and a loop of fire appeared in the air.

"Bravo! Yes, indeed!"

They paid for the wand, and although both of them were smiling, she got the feeling that the air was tense between the two men, as if one of them had blurted out some kind of secret.

But, around 3pm in the afternoon, they were finished with her shopping, and he had to leave. She bade him goodbye happily, about to return to her lonely mountain, when Dumbledore paused her once again.

"I would like you to stay in the Leaky Cauldron tonight. Tom, the barman, can take care of underage witches and wizards," he explained.

"I've been doing perfectly fine on my own. Besides, I don't even know anybody."

"I would feel better if a student of Hogwarts would stay there."

"Is it a requirement?"

"No, but now that you have been exposed to trained magic, I think it would be safest here."

To his surprise, she bowed her head and said, "If you insist."

She followed him into the inn. "One room for a student of mine, please, Tom," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"Hmm…" Evidently, Tom had seen the resemblance of their eyes, but he made no comment as he grinned toothily. "All righ'…we have 3 rooms left, would you be happy with one on the second floor?"

Dumbledore ushered Aurora forward. "That would be great, sir," she said.

"And your name, miss?"

"Aurora. Aurora Cole."

"All righ'…Good…follow me, please, and I believe, Professor Dumbledore can send your trunk up,"

"That I can do," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Well, Miss Cole, this seems to be our parting point. I look forward to teaching you at Hogwarts."

Aurora smiled. "Thank you," she said simply, but those 2 words contained what she would never stop owing him for; Dumbledore had given her a friend, had given her a new world.

And with that, he was gone as she walked away, following Tom.


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the time before the start of the term was a life like none of the others Aurora had lived. She ran around happily, and had read all of her books to the point of memorizing them. She had encountered multiple students, oblivious to the fact that some of them had hated each other, and learned so much about the WIzarding culture. She had also enjoyed tons of ice cream and spent most of her time reading more books at Flourish and Blott's – books which the bookowner had recommended (she did not know that the books she read were textbooks for students of higher years).

Meanwhile, she had become the life of the bar. It began when someone had asked for entertainment.

"Hey, Tom! Where did that good old bar go?" asked a bearded wizard with a pinstriped, ostentatious cloak.

Tom, who had been in the middle of wiping a mug, stopped and shrugged. "Dunno. Guess it's the years."

A plump, pasteled witch had jumped out of her chair and said, "Let me try,"

And the most horrible sound had entered her ears. But when the lady's horrible song had ended and people were filing to leave, she poked out of the corner in which she had been hiding in and said timidly, "I can sing."

But Tom, the wizard, and the pasteled witch had just laughed. Aurora, who was used to this kind of behavior, just stood there.

It was Tom who had recovered first. "Alright, Miss Cole, do your thing," he said, handing her a rusty, magically-enhanced microphone.

She sat on a chair for a moment, thinking, not noticing that people, who had looked interested for a moment, were already getting up again.

She took a deep breath, and raised the device to her lips, letting to tune of one of the popular Muggle songs she had heard blasting from the staticky radios of the village by her former home, songs she had sang to herself for entertainment.

"Edelweiss," she sang softly, her voice piercing the silence.. "Aye...del-weiss.."

"Every morning you greet me," her voice gradually crescendoed.

She took a deep breath, using the instant to look around the room. And she continued.

"Small and white, clean and bright," she began again, her voice a tad bit louder. "You look happy to me...," she stared pointedly at the pasteled witch and the wizard who had asked for entertainment, winking, before letting her heart take over. This was no different than performing the songs she had heard from the orphanage on the mountains, singing her emotions out, the wind carrying her voice to who knows where.

"Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow  
Bloom and grow forever  
Edelweiss Edelweiss  
Bless my homeland forever..."

The song barely lasted 1 minute and a half, but she was meeted with silence...…then cheering. For the first time in her life, people had liked her. They enjoyed her presence.

And soon they were chanting, "…Encore! En-core!"

So she smiled at Tom, who had nodded, looking delighted at the popularity of his bar. And she had gone again. This time with "Stay Awake".

By the end of the day, Tom had earned more Galleons than he had in years, and people were clamoring to meet the unknown girl who had charmed her way into their hearts. Tom wanted to pay her, but she had fiercely shut him down. She would be going to school – there was no need for money, as there probably weren't any sandwich shops in Hogwarts.

And that was how she spent the rest of her summer. Performing every week, dilly-dallying around Diagon Alley, having the time of her life.

She arrived at King's Cross Station the morning of September 1, once again in awe of what most people take for granted. Tom the barman had dropped her off, and she was too busy admiring that magnificent clock until she realized that she had no idea how to get onto Platform 9 ¾.

Until she heard a stern woman's voice say, "And don't forget, Andromeda, don't mingle with those Mudbloods. Stay pure to your name."

"Umm…excuse me?" she asked timidly. "Do you know how to get onto the Platform?"

The woman had regarded her with an instant hatred in her eyes, but the girl she had been talking to – by the looks of it, the same age as her – answered excitedly, "I'm going to Hogwarts, too! Are you a first year?"

She looked surprised at first, but Aurora smiled before replying, "Yes, I am, and – "

She was rudely cut off by the girl's mother, who had asked sternly, "Are your parents a witch and a wizard?"

Aurora regarded the woman for a moment, taking in her robes and hat, and deduced that she was one of those pure-blood manias she had seen in Diagon Alley. She had no idea who her parents were, but decided to roll with the right answer. "Yes, they were part of the Wizarding World," she said calmly.

The woman looked satisfied at this answer. "My daughter, Andromeda, is in her first year as well. Hopefully you'll be in Slytherin," she said.

"I hope so, too. I've been dreaming about this since I was a child." By saying this, Aurora meant going to Hogwarts, and not Slytherin.

Then she turned to Andromeda and said, "Nice to meet you!"

Andromeda smiled in return, shaking her hand.

"To answer your question, you have to go through that wall to get on to Platform 9 ¾."  
Aurora knew better than to be surprised in the presence of Andromeda's mother. "Ah, yes. I forgot about that in my excitement."

Andromeda grinned. "I do that a lot."

Ms. Black seemed satisfied with her, so she followed Andromeda and her older sister, Bellatrix, whose heavily lidded eyes seemed to say that you were below her.

Both of them hurried to get away from Bellatrix and Ms. Black, who Andromeda had bid a hasty good-bye to. And luckily, they managed to find an empty compartment on the train.


	9. Chapter 9

Aurora grinned. The rest of the time before the lunch trolley was spent chatting about which classes they would take at Hogwarts, and which careers they would pursue (which Aurora had tried to engage in, but found she scarcely knew anything).

A pleasant smell had wafted through the air in the middle of their conversation.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" asked a pleasant-looking old lady.

Andromeda immediately grinned.

"Pumpkin juice and pumpkin pasties, please!" Andromeda immediately said.

They were waiting for her order, but Aurora didn't have a clue what any of these things were. "I'll take the whole lot," she said finally, deciding she could choose her favorites after trying all of them.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of trying various Every Flavor Beans (she had even gotten an ice-flavored one, which had resulted in five minutes of being frozen), and collecting new Chocolate Frogs.

Until a nerdy-looking guy had crossed through their compartment and finally made them aware of the darkening night and the now glowing lights.

"Best if we changed now," said Andromeda.

So they changed into the robes – standard black with the pointed hat – just as the train pulled into the station, earning cheers from around the vehicle.

"Firs' years, over here!" called a jolly voice from their right. A broad, humongous guy with a hairy beard was holding a lantern and waving his hand.

The 2 looked at each other before making their way to the man.

And they had taken the ride of their lives. The shimmering lake, rather glassy in the gentle moonlight, reflected the millions of stars above, each with their own individual shimmer. And all of that was preceding the magnificence of the castle, which nothing could do to hide it. It gave Aurora the feeling of diving into a pool where the depths are so calm that you cannot help but stay.

And she was so busy admiring the scenery that she almost missed the line that followed Hagrid into the castle, in front of 2 giant doors.

"Hello," said a stern voice. Aurora turned around, expecting to see a wicked-looking old lady, but instead saw the beautiful woman with flowing black hair and jade green eyes from Diagon Alley.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall." It seemed to be instinct to Aurora to hang on to the woman's every word.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

And with that she had left, saying that she would return soon. Her last comment had left many students running into panic. But it seemed that only Aurora had noticed the slight curve of her lips as she had left, which give her the faintest indication that she was deliberately trying to frighten them. However, everyone else, it seemed, even those who had been in the Wizarding World their whole lives, were looking rather terrified.

"Do we have to take a test?"

"I think my brother mentioned something about that, oh no!"

"I'll fail! I'll get sent back home!"  
Andromeda looked slightly nervous, if not confused, and she was already muttering words under her breath. Aurora could not tell if they were spells, facts, or words of panic.

She tried to rack her brains for anything she could recall from the books she had read over the summer, but the knowledge had seem to leave her mind the moment the thought of a test entered it.

She was still pondering when Professor McGonagall returned and said, "If you will, now, please follow me."

Her mind numb, she had shakily followed the teacher, but all the nerves were immediately put out by the sight of the Great Hall.

It was massive, students everywhere, but the architecture and the intensity of the air signified magic. And the ceiling…oh, the ceiling. It was midnight blue, set to resemble the night sky above, but this had a calming effect, the stars glittering and smiling at her.

She was confused as Professor McGonagall set an old wizard's hat on the stool, but the hat had opened its flap and sang. And everyone applauded at its song.

But it was all over to quickly. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," rang Professor McGonagall's voice through the Hall.

"Avery, Maldus!"

The hat had barely touched the obnoxious-looking boy's hair when it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Black, Andromeda!"

She watched Andromeda stumble forward and walk shakily to the stool, cautiously putting it on. But unlike Avery, the Hat stayed on Andromeda's head for a full two minutes before it shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

She staggered off, with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, but looked rather relieved to have the hat off her head as she walked to her table.

Following her, a plump brown, curly-haired witch walked to the stool and became a "HUFFLEPUFF!"

She watched as a surly boy with a permanent expression of disgust ("Carrow, Amycus") became a "SLYTHERIN!" and then unexpectedly, Professor McGonagall had called, "Cole, Aurora!"

She tried to keep calm as she walked to the stool, the excitement, nervousness, and anticipation were bubbling inside her. Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she placed the hat on her head.

"Oh Merlin!...oh, oho! So much power invested in one being, so much power under your control. You know, I've only encountered one other person who could control their powers like this, and he went to Slytherin. You would do well there, you know, you have a big future," said a sly little voice in her head.

"I don't care about any other student," she thought firmly. "I want a place where I can fit in." That was what she had wanted all her life. To be accepted as a friend, and not out of politeness.

"Such nerve..your parents were Gryffindors, though and clearly –

"You knew my parents?"

"Yes, but –

"Who are they?"

"Ah…you must figure that out for yourself. But as I was saying, in this case, there's no doubt you're a GRYFFINDOR!"

Her table erupted in cheers as she took the hat of and walked over to them, smiling. And she made eye contact across the room, looking at Andromeda, She waved her hand – in farewell and in greeting.

She did not notice the subtle stares and whispers following her.


	10. Chapter 10

The meal was amazing, and the best food that she had eaten in years. She was smiling the whole time, and smiling all the way to her dorm in the Gryffindor tower.

Minerva McGonagall had just finished with the Welcoming Feast when she was walking with her good friend Pomona Sprout to the staff quarters.

"I rather think we have a considerably good lot, but we'll see," she was saying.

"What do you think of the orphan girl – Miss Cole, I think she was?" Pomona said suddenly.

Minerva was mildly surprised at this change of subject. "She's like any other student. What, does she seem like the next Herbology genius?"

"Nothing...I just thought she reminded me a lot of you," she muttered.

But nothing escaped Minerva's sharp ears. "Excuse me? You get those thoughts just by glancing at a first-year?"

Pomona tried to avoid the subject, but it was fruitless. "Well...if you must know...for beginners, she looks _exactly_ like you. Almost like your twin, but much younger."

"I don't have a twin."

"But it's not just me. Didn't you notice the staring going on?"

"I have too much on my plate to be listening to student gossip."

"It was also the staff, Minerva!"

Minerva regarded her which such an oddly curious expression that she immediately ended the discussion.

She sighed. "Don't you think it's weird that a smaller version of our Ice Queen turned up?"

"It could just be someone who I'm distantly related to. Or she just looks like me by pure luck," said McGonagall dismissively.

They did not talk about the girl anymore, but all night, she was all McGonagall could think about. And it seemed impossible, but deep inside, a small, flickering, light of hope dawned inside her. Could it be...?

 _She had been miserable at the Ministry, the same boring, old cycle every day. She longed for the excitement of knowing what to do again, of feeling part of something she could contribute effectively._

 _And on top of that, there was also the pain of losing Dougal…Dougal McGregor, who had been her first love, her second crush…and after she had been forced to leave him, thanks to the stupid International Statute of Secrecy and her ambition to become a witch, and not a housewife. She thought back to that night in the field, when they had been playfully bickering back and forth until she had turned around and then looked back, and there he was, on one knee, with a ring in hand. She had been ecstatic, and said yes without a second thought. But that uneasy feeling nagged her….she had spent that whole night, twisting and turning, unable to sleep. She thought about her mother, who had given up her wand for a Muggle, and the pain she had endured, trapped in a world she did not belong in. And with the greatest regret, she had made her decision: to stay in the Wizarding World, to stay an active witch. So she had run to Dougal early the next morning, told him she had changed her mind without and explanation, and left. She would never forget the pain in his eyes, the last look she had of him._

 _Her next move was to turn to the only other person who had given her such attention – Dumbldeore._

 _He had become headmaster, which she had respected much more than Dippet, and she had applied for what she thought she could do: to teach. It was not far from home, and she was amongst the magical community once more, which seemed too good of an idea to pass. So she had sent Dumbledore a letter._

 _And now, with nothing more to do, she had just started pacing up and down her room. She had packed and her house was now spotless. Her parents were still alive, and they didn't need to know of her problems. She had already resigned from the Ministry, and if Hogwarts didn't accept her, she would likely accept one of the out-of-country posts she had been offered…._

 _There was no chance of Quidditch now, since that final game in her seventh year, when that idiot of a Slytherin Beater had "thought she was a Bludger" and landed her for a week in the St. Mungo's after smacking her with a magically enhanced bat, damaging her brain, but not her mind. She had done so much as a student, what was in for her as an adult?_

 _And suddenly, she noticed something coming towards her through the window. Could it be? She scarcely believed it, but as it neared, she could not be surer. Minerva tried not to prevent her hands from shaking as she tore open the letter from her great-horned owl, Athena._

 _She skimmed over it…and she could barely keep herself from leaping in joy. She had been accepted. She was now a Transfiguration teacher._

 _She had arrived at Hogwarts the next day, and trained extensively under Dumbledore's tutelage the next two weeks, learning much and rekindling the relationship they once had. And when the school year started, she had enjoyed herself once more…_

 _She had thrown herself into her work, oblivious to really anything else, such as the whispers of older students who, her colleagues had told her, had taken a fancy to her – the genius who was back to Hogwarts after only 2 years._

 _Until one night, in one of Isobel's weekly letters, she had read that Dougal had married the daughter of another farmer._

 _Although she had sworn not to think of him, she could not help the tears that flowed as she stood alone in her empty classroom…she thought of the times they had together, the playful bickers and relentless roasting…but that passion she had felt for him was like no other. She had been charmed by his wit and creativity, but the International Statue of Secrecy had forbidden them._

 _She thought of the times they could have spent together, and number of tears only seemed to multiply…she did not think anyone could bother with her until she heard the door creak open and she froze._

 _Albus Dumbledore had been delighted to have his star pupil back at Hogwarts, and he had decided to pay her a visit that night, congratulating her on her achievement in making Transfiguration the best subject in the school again. But he had heard tears again, and something was terribly, terribly, wrong._

 _He opened the door, and there was her, with all her magnificence and wonder, silhouetted against the night sky. Tears were flowing openly down her cheeks._

 _He had just decided that it was not such a good idea to intrude when she whispered, "Dumbledore?"_

 _They had agreed to first-name terms, but somehow, she never did remember. "Minerva, I'm- "_

 _But she had wiped her tears away with a handkerchief and appeared normal except for the fact her eyes were red. For some reason, she still managed to look flawless._

 _"It's ok, honestly."_

 _He looked at her face, which said otherwise. "You're not okay, Minerva." he said quietly. "If you wish to talk to me about it, I am available."_

 _And she had run to his arms, desperate for comfort and advice. And poured out the whole story._

 _From then on, a new layer in their relationship had been reached. Albus told her the tragic story of his family, and she became the only other person who knew besides Elphias Doge and Aberforth. He was the only one who knew the troubles she had gone through, from her rocky childhood with two distrusting parents all the way to her whirlwind, broken romance with Dougal MacGregor. As much as he wished to be loved the same way Dougal had, he respected her boundaries, and they found comfort and wisdom in each other…_


	11. Chapter 11

Classes began the next morning, and Aurora was enthusiastic. She shared her dorm with only 2 other girls – Dorcas Meadowes and Emmeline Vance, who seemed friendly enough. But she had Herbology first with the Slytherins, which she was looking forward to – it gave her an opportunity to see Andromeda again.

Herbology was in a stuffy set of greenhouses, and they waited for Professor Sprout to enter – a plump, curly-haired witch with a cheerful attitude and an earthy aura. Thus, they spent the first hour of classes operating tools in the soil, and working with Muggle plants, which were a "good beginning to what's about to come."

She spent most of her time talking to Andromeda, who seemed a little bit downcast.

"Andro, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Andromeda sighed. "I didn't really want to be in Slytherin," she said.

Aurora was shocked. "What? But it's supposed to be like your family!" she said.

"I know, but all my roommate talks about is how good it is to be pureblood and when they'll start getting favoritism for that," she said bitterly.

"Is that the only reason?"

"My whole family have been in Slytherin, but I've always wanted...I've always wanted to be something different...special, even,"

"It doesn't matter. You're different from your family because you're well, you. You don't care about blood status that much, do you?"

"No...it gets so annoying sometimes."

Aurora smiled. "I know," she said. "You can always talk to me, you know."

Andromeda immediately lit up. "Really?

"Of course, really, what do you think friends are for?" she hissed as her hand snagged a root.

And both of them spent the rest of Herbology trying to figure out how to get a magical plant out without destroying it.

Her next class was Charms, which she had always been eager about. The books made the subject seem interesting enough, and from what she had heard, the teacher, Professor Flitwick, was good. They had immediately started practical wandwork, with the Levitation Charm on a feather.

It was tricky, but she was happy with the challenge. It was much better than doing nothing on the mountain back in the Highlands. Or being in that orphanage. Or with Voldemort. And what was different, she had someone who could help her now, instead of trying to figure out everything on her own.

That thought alone seemed to force her to focus solely on the present. It's over, she thought. All of that is gone now. You have a new home, and you're happy, she told herself firmly.

That thought alone seemed to lift her, and so did her feather. Within seconds, the sight of her rising feather had caught the attention of Professor Flitwick and the rest of the class.

"Look, now, over here! Miss Cole's got it!" he said enthusiastically.

She smiled brightly, but she observed the expressions of her fellow classmates. Some looked at her in awe, while others looked disappointed. But, she did not fail to notice the furious – perhaps malicious even – look of one long, blonde-haired boy sulking in the corner.

The only other thing they had that they was Potions, and all they did was hear Professor Slughorn talk enthusiastically – along with a couple of questions answered by Aurora. She returned quite happily to her dorm that night.

The first two months of her Hogwarts years passed by quite enjoyably. Her favorite subject happened to be Transfiguration. It was the most challenging as well, and Aurora, being herself, loved a challenge. It gave her mind no reason to stray away to the thoughts of Lord Voldemort or the orphanage, or remember any of those words they had said, and her arms something to do. It was much more than pointing your wand and saying a few words.

Charms was almost like Transfiguration, except it required more creativity. History of Magic was probably the worst – Professor Binns was like a hypnosis machine, making you want to sleep, but memorizing the facts came naturally to her. Astronomy was similar, except it required late-night classes, resulting in occasional sleep deprivation for many of the first-years. Herbology was a combination of History and Astronomy and hands-on activities – she never seemed as at ease in the greenhouse as Professor Sprout did. Potions was another one of her favorites, as she loved the feeling of finally having directions and following something, with that dash of creativity Slughorn sometimes offered. And Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed to combine all of those classes – having to read, memorize, and perform hands-on activities. As a result, they were now her favorites.

They had already had their first flying lesson, which was uneventful except for the fact that only a quarter of the class had managed to summon their brooms. However, no one was permitted to fly.

Aurora was waiting by the library for Andromeda, who was now her best friend, on their way to the Quidditch pitch for the next broomstick lesson.

She was greeted with Andromeda panting despite not having carried any books.

"You alright?" she grinned.

"Yeah…lost my wand in my trunk for a moment," she said sheepishly.

"Ah…" understood Aurora. Andromeda had a habit of dumping everything into her trunk before her sleep.

Together, they hurried down to the field, determined to arrive on time and have their pick of brooms. Unfortunately, it seemed, they were one of the later ones.

"Black, Cole, hurry up!" shouted Madam Hooch.

They could only fast-walk to one of the 5 unoccupied brooms. Their owners arrived 30 seconds later.

"Now, today," began Madam Hooch. "You will learn to fly. It may seem scary at first, but you will grow used to that feeling."

The malicious-looking Slytherin boy - his name was Lucius Malfoy, she had learned - snickered. A look from Madam Hooch and he silenced.

"On the count of my whistle, you will kick off and hover for a moment. Then, I expect to you to land back down."

She held a handsome silver whistle that, unlike Muggle coaches, did not have a lanyard attached.

"Mount your brooms….3…2…1…go!"

Some students, like Maldus Avery, were not even able to get off the ground. Andromda only hovered for a moment before she crashed to the ground face-first. But for Aurora, she had shot up 5 feet above the ground – and stayed.

Lucius Malfoy, it appeared, had flown a broom before. He snatched Madam Hooch's whistle out of her hand, and yelled, "Can't beat me, Professor!"

Madam Hooch was furious, "Why you little – "

And he had flown high above the tower, cackling like Peeves the poltergeist.


	12. Chapter 12

To say the least, it had reminded her of the orphanage. Older kids stealing from younger kids like herself, whom she had tried to protect.

She leaned to the side, and to her delight, the broom moved a little to the right as well. And when she felt like going up, the broom responded until she was at the same level as Lucius Malfoy.

"Give that back to her, Malfoy!" she shouted.

"Or what?" he smirked. "You're not the headmaster," he sneered.

And with that, he charged at her.

She vaguely registered the scream of some people below as instinctively, she turned to the right, dodging to save her neck.

The only problem was, she had leaned over a bit too much that the broom had flipped over and she was now hanging by her arm.

Malfoy stopped behind her and appeared pissed for a moment, but then he sneered again. "This is for beating me. I am pure-blood, and you're nothing more than a…a Mudblood, but we don't even know that, because dear Mum and Dad don't even care about you." Aurora paled as he continued. "…Although you would look good in the hospital wing."

He charged again, but this time Aurora was prepared. She twisted to the side, feeling the wind as he whooshed by, and saw him stop again, right behind her, as he realized he had not hit anything. She used that moment to jump onto the end of his broom, dropping her own. The extra weight startled him, making him lose control of the whistle. She grabbed it, and Malfoy, realizing what she had done, attempted to grab her.

But she had done what was pretty much suicide – she had just leaped off into a dive. And she would have probably died, but right before her crazy stunt, she had tossed her broom away. And now, her broom was only 3 feet below her – and then right out of – and then right within an arm's reach.

 _Stop falling_ , she thought. _Please help me, I need you._

And to her amazement, the broom stopped in midair. She felt her body slam against the wooden handle of the broom, and then willed out to drop down slowly. But it seemed as if the broom finally stopped cooperating as the weight of her slammed onto it, and crashed down 20 feet to the ground.

She felt her body burst upon impact, but stood up, as she was greeted with cheers. She shakily stood up, as if every bone had been turned into glass, walked to Madam Hooch and said weakly, "Here, Professor."  
Her teacher looked stunned, before smiling shakily. "Thank you, dear."

And she had suddenly winced in pain as she was tackled into a hug by Andromeda.

"That was ruddy brilliant!" she screamed.

Aurora smiled. "At least I'm not dead," she murmured, but no one seemed to here.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Madam Hooch smiling in thanks, and Lucius Malfoy, having returned to the ground, fuming. No one paid attention to him, not even his lackeys, who had joined the crowd that was cheering her stunt.

It was a good day, even if she ended up in the hospital wing for a broken rib. But she could not remember any other night when she had slept more peacefully.

Xiomara Hooch was stunned, to say the least. She had been saved by a first-year. A first-year, who, as she had heard, did not even know the wizarding world existed until a few weeks ago, let alone ride a broom.

As much as she was embarrassed about the fact, she was still in awe of the fact the she had done what she did – and survived.

All of these thoughts ran through her head as she made her way to the staff room.

Inside, Dumbledore, Flitwick, McGonagall, and Sinistra were eating quietly, chattering amongst themselves.

They looked up as she entered, taking in her windswept appearance.

"Rough lesson, Madam Hooch?" said Professor Slughorn through a mouthful of pastry.

She looked sheepishly at her whistle before saying, "One of them lot landed in the hospital wing," she said.

"Who?" said McGonagall. To her, this was sort of an irregular thing. But to everyone else, at least 5 times a year, a first-year went to the hospital wing because of flying lessons.

"Aurora Cole. And she…oh, this is embarrassing to admit…she did something, to say the least, something only too…Gryffindor," she said, looking pointedly at Dumbledore.

She was only greeted by blank stares from the rest of the staff.

Dumbledore stood up quietly. "Madam Hooch, if you will step outside for a moment. And Professor McGonagall, if you will follow me."

If either of them found those orders queer, they did not mention it. She followed Dumbledore outside.

"Madam Hooch, will you care to specify?"

She felt her face redden. "Well…they were getting ready to take off, but the Malfoy boy took off first and took my whistle."

Dumbledore's and McGonagall's face did not betray any sign of laughter.

She felt more comfortable as she went on. "And the girl, Miss Cole, she immediately followed him – I don't know where she learned to fly. And Malfoy tried to charge at her, but she dodged and jumped on his broom. And just like that – she managed to get my whistle and land in one piece."

Dumbledore smiled understandingly in a way where she did not feel ridiculed or ashamed, but understood.

"Xiomara, go and enjoy your dinner now. I must attend to my Headmaster duties," he said, the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

He turned to Minerva as Madam Hooch left.

"Minerva, if I may so kindly ask you," he began.

"Just spit it already," she said.


	13. Chapter 13

"May I request a sample of your blood?"

Her expression was only to curious. "What for?"

He sighed. "I vow to explain in due course, but I think it will help with finding her."

It was that which won her over.

She conjured a tiny flask and pricked herself, before handing the vial over to him.

"Do what you must," she said. And with that, she turned on her heel and returned to the staff room, leaving Dumbledore staring at her disappearing cascading black hair.

 _They had spent 3 years as just friends, but lately, friends had been too careless of a word to describe what they had become. Every day, when she paid him visits, she not him not just as an employer, but someone who she could finally lean her shoulder on and close her eyes peacefully. In other words, what she felt for him was remotely inappropriate for a professional relationship._

 _But what she did not know was that he felt the same thing, except his feelings had lasted from the time she was in school. And she was oblivious to all of that…oblivious to the fact that she was now considered one of the most beautiful witches in the community, and that she was of marriageable age. Those two factors seemed to bury themselves into the minds of all the wizard bachelors in the community, which many spent their free time ogling at her. However, the only thing she minded was her the quality of her work._

 _But late that night of Thanksgiving her second year teaching, something only too magical happened. They had been practicing dueling, which was only too hard considering that they had been stuffed with food._

 _"Impedimenta!"_

 _He had wordlessly blocked the spell, and cast a Jelly-legs Jinx at her._

 _She had responded only too slowly, thanks the drowsy effects of the food; she did not completely catch the curse, but tripped and was experiencing the sensation of falling, which she had not gotten in years –_

 _And Dumbledore had caught her in his arms. His eyes had a mischievous twinkle that was only to familiar._

 _"My, my, it seems like Professor McGongall has tripped! What a shocker!"_

 _"Shut up," muttered Minerva, but her playfulness was evident in her voice._

 _He chuckled, before their gazes met, and she felt something that she never felt before. What was that feeling? Ah, right….was it love?_

 _"Minerva," he whispered after a moment. "You're…beautiful," he said, brushing away a strand of hair (she had let down her hair for the festivities)._

 _She blushed, and tried to break the gaze. But Dumbledore had planted a finger under her chin, and gently, she had gazed into his brilliant, electrically calming blue eyes again. She could not help but be hypnotized._

 _"Albus…" she murmured. Did she just call him by his first name? "What am I feeling for you?"_

 _He had looked mildly surprised, but then she was trapped in his gaze once more. "I don't know, Minerva…but I do know is that…I love you."_

 _And he had said those words, which she had been crossing her fingers to hear. "I think I feel likewise," she whispered, as she had leaned up and planted her lips to his –_

 _And it was magic, like that sensation she had first got when she had transfigured something. Pure happiness._

 _"What was that?" she said, when they had broken apart._

 _Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brighter than ever. "That, I believe, is what I've been trying to say since you were a fifth or sixth year," he admitted grudgingly._

 _"Really?" The greatest wizard of the twentieth century, and…her?_

 _"Really, my dear." And they had headed together back to the staffing quarters, both blissfully happy in a way one experiences only once in a lifetime._

 _And that Christmas, instead of any Christmas present, Albus had given her a ring, which had meant pretty much everything…._

He journeyed to the hospital wing, finding Madam Pomfrey poking the girl's ribs with her wand. She jumped at his entrance.

"Headmaster! How nice!"

He smiled pleasantly. "How is she, Poppy?"

"Not bad, considering it was on the _Quidditch pitch_ " – she emphasized the word, displaying her disapproval – "but she will be alright tomorrow morning."

He smiled again. "Good to hear," he said. "It's so bad that there are already injuries so early in the year."

"Well, that's the reason I'm here!" said Poppy, smiling.

He returned the smile. "Poppy, if I may ask you, can you determine the relationship between her blood and these two vials?"

He held up two vials – one of them Minerva's, one of them which he had conjured en route to the hospital wing.

"Of course, headmaster, but what for?" Poppy was surprised, and it showed.

"It will help me determine who she is," he said simply. Everyone had heard about the orphan prodigy, but no one knew anything about her parentage.

"Of course," said Poppy again. "If you will wait here a moment."  
"Certainly."

He waited patiently as Madam Pomfrey hurried to her office, and heard the whirs and tinkers of the various medical instruments he had no idea how to operate. He watched Aurora sleeping, her long black her flowing down her back the same way Minerva's did. He watched her breathe, and observed her face, and Minerva's face had jumped to his mind –

"Done, headmaster," rang Madam Pomfrey's voice.

"And what are the results?"

"It's a parent-child relationship." She said, but then she paused. "do you know her parents?"

"In a sense," said Dumbledore after a moment. "I do."

He had nodded at her, said a sincere "Thank you, Poppy," and left the ward.

He walked slowly to his office, with no desire to return to the staff room.

He was not surprised, but in a sense, this felt so unexpected. He had not had a bond like this in so long…and yet here she was…his child…his daughter. The words felt so foreign to his mind.

Later that night, when he was sure she had gone to bed, he had sent a Patronus to her chambers.

"Come to my office," it said. Minerva was already in her dressing gown when she received it. Wordlessly, she slipped on an indoor cloak and slipped through the corridors, past the gargoyle, and into the familiar rotunda of his office.

Before she could say anything, Dumbledore said, "I found her."


	14. Chapter 14

But the next day, however, she was greeted by whispers all around the castle as she made her way to Potions.

It irked her. It reminded her of the way people had acted around her when she was with Lord Voldemort. No one telling her anything except that she was worthless.

She met Andromeda in the Great Hall.

"Andro, what's going on?" she whispered, making her way to the Slytherin table. She was met with many death glares, and some people even slid away from her as soon as she neared.

Andromeda looked at her half-finished breakfast before gathering her things.

"Let's walk and talk," she said finally.

And so they took a long route to Potions, and it was when they were in a completely empty corridor until Andromeda finally said a word.

"What's going on?" she repeated.

Andromeda looked nervous. "Well…I don't know if you want to – "

"OF course I want to know!"

"Fine…but don't blame me if I sound horrible."

"I promise I won't," she said.

Andro took a deep breath before beginning. "Do you remember Lucius Malfoy?"

"The git from yesterday? Yeah."

"Well, he got really mad, and last night he said in the common room that you were a half-vampire that was worse than a Mudblood." She said in a rush.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," whispered Andromeda.

"It's okay," she said. "And people believe it?"

"Well..er, yes. Considering that you're an orphan and combine that with the fact that they say that you're one of the best students here since Dumbledore or McGonagall themselves, I would say yes."

"And you believe it?"

"What - no! Of course not! I know you, Aurora! Those are just what my idiots of a Housemates say!"

She sighed. Why hadn't she seen this coming? "It'll be okay," she said, more to herself than others. "I've endured worse."

"What do you mean?"

"It's…nothing, really," she said. "Just promise one thing,"

"Yes?"

"Promise me you'll be my friend in all this."

Andromeda blinked. "I promise."

But the next 2 weeks did nothing to quell the rumors. At first, Aurora thought that by focusing and doing her best in her studies, it would eventually die down. But it only seemed to strengthen it. She had done so many spells and charms above her peers that even those who had been friendly with here were now regarding her with a cold aura. They attributed her advancement to her "extreme Mudbloodiness".

Minerva hurried to Dumbledore's office as soon as class had ended.

"Albus," she said, out of breath. "It's Aurora. You know the rumors,"

And that was all that was needed as a silent understanding passed between them…

 _New Year's had just passed, and it seemed not to go well for his beautiful young wife. Every morning, Minerva seemed to be throwing up and having an upset stomach. Every day, during class, she had been easily irritated, to the point where the students had noticed a change._

 _He had tried telling her to go to the hospital wing, but she had refused, saying it was nothing more than a bout of cold. But this time, it seemed wrong…._

 _So he was forced to find Poppy and ask her to take a look at Minerva, who had been very unhappy when she had been cornered by her and dragged to the hospital wing for a diagnosis._

 _She had been feeling unusually uncomfortable that day, but she had waved it off as a continuation of an upset stomach from that too-rich New Year's feast. But a stomach bug shouldn't last this long, should it?_

 _"How long has it been, Minerva?" asked Poppy as she performed a Diagnostic Spell._

 _"Since New Year's," replied Minerva._

 _"Umm-hmmm…you'll be all right in a jiffy," said Poppy absentmindedly as she reviewed the results of the spell. And then she froze, which did not go unnoticed by Minerva._

 _"What's wrong?" she asked irritably._

 _"It...it appears that you are perfectly fine, Minerva. But…"_

 _"Say it already."_

 _"Itappearsthayouarepregnant."_

 _"What?"_

 _Poppy took a deep breath. "Minerva," she said. "You are with child."_

 _Boom. They had been dreaming of a child ever since their marriage, and now it had happened….it seemed too soon._

 _"Thank you for telling me, Poppy," she said stiffly._

 _"Are you going to him?" she asked suddenly._

 _"I will, soon," she had replied, before quickly leaving to avoid any more questions. She had first wandered absentmindedly to her chambers, before finally making up her mind and risking a visit to her husband's office. But it was likely he was not there; if he wasn't, well, then there was always a tomorrow._

 _But however, once the door had opened, she had been greeted by a pacing, impatient, Dumbledore._

 _"Albus? What's wrong?"_

 _He was surprised to see her, but smiled weakly. "Minerva, dear, it's nothing."_

 _He was such a bad liar. "I can see right through you. Tell me what happened at the Ministry,"_

 _"You won't be happy to hear it."_

 _"Trust me, I have some news too."_

 _He sighed. He had to relent. The advice of his wife was how he made most of his decisions, and she was the only person who had gained the confidence to be his equal besides Grindelwald. She made the pain a lot less worse. "I was at the Department of Mysteries today, assisting them with the disturbance last night – the latest in a series of unusal events. I was investigating the damage; an entire shelf had collapsed, and the prophecies and prophecy blanks were rolling around, but thankfully, none had broken._

 _So we carried some of them back to the Depart of Law Enforcement for reexamination, and one of the newer workers lost control and ended up dropping a prophecy blank into the fountain._

 _You know that the fountain contains magical properties. It had been a blank crystal, where a prophecy appeared once it has been made. But it cracked as soon as it hit the water, and the substance inside had reacted with the enchanted waters of the Fountain…and a new prophecy had appeared."_

 _"What did it say?"_

 _He looked at her, and swallowed._

 _"_ The one born with the power of the stars has neared.

Born to the summer heat's demise,

To the only one he will ever fear

She will surpass the limits of magic, and rise

Paving the way for the one who lived

But her own demon is how she dies…"

 _Minerva had suddenly gone very, very pale – he had never seen her in this unhealthy color before._

 _"I know. If it is talking about Voldemort, most people assume I am the one he fears…" but he trailed off as Minerva shook her head._

 _"No…it's not that…it's nothing really," she said, to herself more than others._

 _He did not need Legilimency to tell that something was wrong._

 _"Minerva, something did happen." She was silent._

 _"Does it have something to do with this prophecy? Or…maybe with Poppy's checkup today?"_

 _She had finally met his gaze, and for once, he could see fear._

 _"Albus," she said, impossibly soft. "I'm pregnant."_

 _He froze for a second before breaking into the widest grin. The best piece of news in a long time._

 _"Minerva, this is amazing! You know how much we – "_

 _But that look of fear did not leave her eyes. "It's the prophecy you just told me, Albus. What if it is referring to you? To your – to our child?"_

 _And he froze again, this time for much longer, as the thought hit him, too._

 _As much as it had scared him, he had to be brave for his wife. For his unborn child. For his family._

 _"It does not matter. I will protect you and our child no matter what."_

 _And he had embraced her, all the time wallowing in guilt of the lie he had just said….prophecies were not easily broken._

 _The day their child – a baby girl – was born was the happiest day of his entire life. Better than the day he had met Grindelwald, or the time when he had won some stupid award. This was real happiness._

 _He could only smile as he stood beside the bedridden Minerva, who was holding their infant child and smiling despite the intense pain she had just gone through._

 _And she had looked up at him, and handed him the baby. He took one look at her innocent face, which were an intensely calming kind of blue and already had the intelligence of her mother._

 _"Thank you," he said, barely audible through emotion._

 _She smiled. "She has your wonderful eyes," she said softly._

 _"And I can already so much of her amazing mother in her."_

 _He would never forget that feeling…._


	15. Chapter 15

For Aurora, the only supporters she seemed to have were Andromeda and some of the teachers. Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Slughorn seemed to have offered looks of pity, and did not judge her work based on the rumors. Professor McGonagall, the Ice Queen herself, had gone even further.

She was finishing Transfiguration one day, eager for the bell to ring so she could enjoy the afternoon off in her corner of the campus, right outside the Whomping Willow, hidden by the tree's violent branches. Away from the ridicules and taunts and falseness.

But she was denied even that.

"Miss Cole, please stay for a moment," Professor McGonagall had called as the bell rang. Malfoy smirked at her, and shouted, "See you, bloodsucker!" He was immediately followed by his group of lackeys who wanted the free period to listen to what other stories Malfoy could fabricate. It was unfortunate that he seemed to possess the magic in words rather than the magic of wands and spells.  
She had nervously approached McGonagall's desk. "Professor?"

And she had met the jade green eyes that always seemed to know the best. "Aurora," she said softly. Then she seemed to compose herself. "I know it must hurt to face these rumors, but trust me, they happen every few years at Hogwarts…you were, well, just unlucky enough to face them."

She smiled. "Thank you, Professor, that means a lot to me." It was good to know that the teachers did not believe a foolish student's sayings, but even a teacher could not change the beliefs of students.

"And please let me know if there's anything I can do to help…"

She smiled reassuringly. "I will, ma'am," she said, before leaving.

Professor McGonagall had noticed the troubled look in Aurora – her daughter's eyes – because she had easily recognized that same look in Dumbledore's eyes so many times. And it pained her that she was unable to do more to help her daughter – to comfort and hold her, after so many years of loneliness. So after that, Professor McGonagall had hurried to Dumbledore's office, to talk to the one person who probably felt the same pain she had. "It's Aurora," she announced once she had entered. Dumbledore's usually calm gaze sobered at once as their eyes met, and at once she could feel the pent-up pain and love they shared for each other and for their daughter.

 _It was only a month ago when they had celebrated their little girl's third birthday. Aurora, they had named her, for her brilliant blue eyes had reminded Minerva of a dawn of a new day, a bright new era full of happiness and curiosity. And they had agreed to Ariana for her middle name, for she had shown the gentle traits of Dumbledore's fragile late sister. It was not hard for others to notice the drastic change in personality for both parents. Both of them seemed much more cheery, because there was something they had to live for._

 _Little Aurora was the favorite of all the teachers, and seemed to be Professor Slughorn's greatest weakness since candied pineapples. Although she was forbidden to attend classes or meet the other students (yet), everybody already doted on her. She trotted around the castle in the after-hours, her dark, flowing hair streaming out after her. Many were already trying to teach her their subjects, all expecting great things from the child of the greatest witch and wizard of the century._

 _Like Professor Sinistra, for example. She had been happily cooing in Professor Sinistra's arms as Sinistra had pointed to her the stars of the night, the planets and the moons. Minerva had gone down to her office to check homework, and Dumbledore was in his study…_

 _When suddenly a shout was heard on the campus grounds. Instinctively, all the teachers had hurried to the source, but it was empty…and then they heard a same scream of pain across the lake, and like before, the teachers had followed it._

 _And suddenly, from atop the Astronomy Tower, a bright right light flashed and 6 hooded, robed figures appeared out of thin air, with one appearing to lead them all. Professor Sinistra screamed._

 _"Get the girl," he said in a high, cold voice. His red eyes glowed in a way that they were visible from across campus. With that in mind, Albus, Minerva, and the other teachers with them had noticed something was wrong atop the Astronomy Tower, even from their location on the ground._

 _It hit Minerva first. "Aurora! No! NO!" she shrieked as they had dashed into the castle, up the stairs, passed several surprised-looking paintings.  
The other figures stunned Professor Sinistra and grabbed the struggling baby, who had been wriggling against their hold. And suddenly, she had fallen out of their grip, out of the tower, falling, falling…..and then Voldemort himself had flown down, received her, and then landed on the tower again, as Dumbledore and McGonagall had burst into view. _

_"Too late, Dumbledore!" cackled Voldemort._

 _In his rage, Dumbledore had blindly fired spells, as Voldemort cried "Protect me!" to his followers._

 _And they had dutifully done so, flashing back spells as quickly as Flitwick, McGonagall, and Dumbledore could fire them. But they were no match for Dumbledore alone, as he blasted them out of the way and hurried to catch Voldemort, who was flying away with a wailing Minerva._

 _"This is for everything, Dumbledore! This is only the start of what's about to come! Greatness will shadow this world…and she is just the start!"_

 _He had fired as many spells as he could, but Voldemort dodged them easily as he erected some sort of impenetrable wall. He reached the boundaries and Disapparated._

 _It appeared that he had not told his followers anything._

 _They were besides themselves, and all the Hogwarts staff who had been charmed by the little girl running around the school could only share a fraction of their sadness. And they had fallen apart, even though Minerva kept on saying that she didn't blame him, he could not feel that this was all his fault._

The situation only worsened, and the next day Aurora was cornered by the idiot himself.

Malfoy smirked, leering over her, his tall, growing, frame shadowing her thin, but rather lithe, figure. Still, a barely-developed girl versus a burly, hate-driven, 150-pound male? It was painfully obvious who the victor would be.

"Come on, _Aurora,_ " he said, sneering. "You're powerful. I mean, you're half-vampire, so of course you'd be powerful. I know what to do with powerful. Imagine the things we could do together if you'd simply listen."

"No," Minerva tried to say, but it came out barely audible.

"Think about it. You, the _vampire_ protégé, of me, the greatest wizard-to-be in history,"

"No," She repeated, this time more firmly.

"Do you want me to do it the hard way? This is a generous offer, you should be glad I'm feeling quite well today. Besides, my father could do much, much worse." This time, he had drawn his wand, and was slowly raising it.

"NO!" Aurora screamed this time, and a circle of towering flames appeared around Malfoy, hiding him from view. This drew the attention of the portraits in the corridor, as well as the looks of a couple students who were making their way up the stairs.

She looked around wildly, at Malfoy's momentarily surprised face, who had blasted a wave of water at the fire, and the expressions of portraits and students alike. Without thinking, she raise her hands, blasting something – she didn't know what, but it was probably harmful - at Malfoy, and then she ran, her cloak streaming behind her. She dashed right through a window and continued on, running blindly as she passed the gamekeeper's hut, into the Forbidden Forest.

And what she had left, though…her emotions had finally torn through her, becoming stronger as she ran. And it manifested itself through her abilities…leaving a shocked Malfoy frozen in a shiny, unmelt-able case of ice, and several students and portraits looking on in wonder, too afraid to do anything.


	16. Chapter 16

But Aurora ran, adrenaline kicking into her, giving her seemingly infinite stamina as she continued, through the woods, out of the Forbidden Forest, to whatever wonders lay on the other side of the forest. She did not stop running until she felt the air sudden become chillier, calming her frayed nerves. She looked at her surroundings…and she had no idea where she was, but the base of a steep, stony, mountain, and it was snowing…her habitat. This was like the place she had raised herself in.

She looked back, and the tips of the towers of Hogwarts barely made it through the trees. It was a wonderful view, especially knowing that she had escaped the confinements of the castle. Escaped the whispers and stares.

She slowed to a trudge, finally exhausted by the marathon through the woods. She closed her eyes as tears began to fall, and as she started her ascent up the mountain, which exhausted her legs, which were burned from running through the entire length of the forbidden forest. The snow, although it was falling lightly, had left a roughly full 5 inches of snow on the mountain's stony surface, and she was finding it hard to trudge through mush that almost reached her knees. With a cry, she collapsed in the middle of climbing, using only her cloak and robe as barriers between snow and death.

Why was the world so cruel? Just when she had found a place she could call home, she had started facing hatred again, and she hated that. Everyone else found it just so _easy_ to fit in, but her? Was it genetics or years of being with Lord Moldyvort? It seemed that she just physically repulsed people. As the wind blew and the snow fell, Aurora's sobs gradually subsided, and memories of winter on Ben Nevis filled her mind as she gradually summoned the last of strength to summon a bit of fire, warm up the area in front of her, and magically set a fire going on an area of stone. The light lit the area as the fire crackled, and Aurora curled next to it, too numb to feel the pain of frostbite. Tears continued to slide down her cheeks as she sat and stared into the emptiness of the light, pondering over nothing.

Slughorn had just reported to Dumbledore – Aurora Cole had been absent at the potions class that afternoon.

Of course, any disappearance of a student immediately alarmed him. But this was Aurora – it didn't alarm him; it positively frightened him to the core.

Immediately, he had contacted Minerva, and in an instance, she had called in one of the other teachers in the Transfiguration department to be her substitute. And within 10 minutes of the report, they had left the school.

It was not hard to track where Aurora had gone. Mary Smith (she's going to become Mary Cattermole from Deathly Hallows), one of the 4th year students, had said that Malfoy had been leering over her on the 2nd floor, 4th corridor, when she had yelled and fled. So, they went up there, and found a trail of wet foot prints, which had gradually turned into frost, then snow, then ice, and then an un-melt-ably crystallized ice that reflected multiple colors. The ice seemed to become stronger and shinier as the tracks continued.

It had gone through the Forbidden Forest, where Dumbledore had encountered Bane the centaur again.

"Dumbledore…we meet again," Bane said. "As mankind sets foot once again in our forest," he added sourly.

"I am just passing through," he said pleasantly, "and I will not dream of touching your territory. But I was wondering, have you seen any Hogwarts student today?"

Bane looked ever sourer as he answered. "No human has passed through the forest except for one girl with icy powers."

"Do you know where she went?" asked McGonagall urgently.

"I have not seen this in the stars…but follow the ice, if you must," Bane replied.

"Thank you," Minerva got the words out before she was hurrying along the trail of footprints, which had now turned into gradually larger circles of ice.

It took them the best of 3 hours to get to the other end of the forest, where they were met with an icy blast of snow, which they cleared away with their wands. And once the blast had cleared, they could see a light on the middle of one of the mountains. That had to be Aurora.

Minerva could only look in awe at the light on the mountain, as if it was the only thing that mattered.

"Albus," she murmured, calling him that for the first time in 11 years.

She heard him sigh and say, "A first year should not be able to have this kind of control. Minerva…she reminds of Riddle, in a sense."

She suddenly seemed to compose herself again. "Dumbledore, Aurora is nothing like Riddle. Nothing."

He shook his head. "No, definitely not. Let's Apparate, say, 15 metres from the location of the sound?" he said.

Minerva nodded. "3…2…1…Now."

And they were gone.

Their new location was right next to more swirling blasts of snow and wind, this time stronger than the ones at the base of the mountain. No doubt – this was the Aurora's work, and her power – even though they hated to admit it – was far stronger than a normal witch or wizard's.

Like before, they cleared the storm with her wand, and it took a moment, but Minerva gasped at the sight on front of her.

It was Aurora – they were facing her back – curled around a steadily weakening fire, and although she wasn't sobbing or whimpering, you could still feel massive amounts of grief radiating from her.

"Aurora!" Dumbledore called, aghast. No student should be in this state.

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged an equally distressed look before quickly appraoching their daughter. Both knew that it was time, and that this encounter would be the chance to change everything, for better or for worse. McGonagall put a hand on her shoulder, and Dumbledore conjured a thicker cloak and a few chairs for them to sit on. It was funny – a few lawn chairs in the middle of a snowy mountain, but for these 2 master wizards and their kid, it was only the tiniest bit out of the norm.

"Aurora?" said McGonagall softly. If any of her students heard her now, they would have suspected Polyjuice Potion – Professor McGonagall was never soft or tender in any way.

Slowly and cautiously, Aurora pushed herself up and turned around, her eyes widening when she saw who was there. She quickly wiped her eyes, took a breath, and spoke calmly, despite the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "Hello, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall."

At that moment, Minerva noticed that Albus, who had been a master of hiding his past, had tears burning to come out of his eyes. She caught his gaze, and he nodded.


	17. Chapter 17

It was time to tell her. He began with a sigh. "Aurora, listen to me." It took a moment, but she raised her eyes and met his, and for an instant, he was overcome with emotion, as he could see his own troubled self in those blue eyes.

He sighed and continued. "Aurora, you are no normal student at Hogwarts," he said. "If you could please allow us the time to explain, I would be so much more than happy."

To his surprise, Aurora remained expressionless, but nodded. "Of course," she said in a way that imitated Minerva when she received orders. To Aurora, it seemed that they had every right to barge in and explain. They had not ridiculed her or followed the rumours.

"May I hear your words?" she asked, a bit timidly.

And so Albus began. "I want to tell you a story first, if you will listen,"

The girl held his gaze for a moment before nodding. He glanced at Minerva, that one look telling it all: it was time. Minerva smiled softly.

"I was young – I had only been teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts for 8 years, and I had defeated Grindelwald only 4 years ago. But I made a huge mistake – I fell in love with a student."

Aurora almost choked on her own spit. "What?"

Dumbledore smiled ruefully. "I know, right? The things that happen," he chuckled.

"But this student was my protégé- she had transfigured things N.E.W.T. students could do in her first 3 years, and was perhaps the only student ever to train to become Animagi at Hogwarts. And not to mention that she was stunningly beautiful, with such a witty personality. I was sure half the school was after her."

McGonagall blushed, which did not go unnoticed by Aurora.

"It was wrong, but I could not stop myself. And besides, how could such a star love a slowly aging, foolish man like me? So I blocked such feelings, but a part of me was lost when she graduated and left me to bigger and better things – and probably find a boy who was her age, with her cleverness.

We did not talk until 2 years later, when I had become headmaster. She sent me an owl, asking for a job. And without hesitation, I agreed. Not because I had loved her- and still loved her – but she got the job because of her work. She came, and I was once again beside myself. If I could not reveal my feelings to her, working alongside her was enough.

But we rekindled the closed relationship we once had, and one night, I found out she had loved me the same way I loved her. And needless to say, I was overjoyed. We were married – it was a quiet affair, and our child was born 2 years later. A daughter. I felt my life was complete.

But by the time my daughter - yes, it was a girl – 3 years old, a threat had been rising in the Wizarding community. A threat that I had foresaw, and what I knew was trouble, yet I had failed to stop. He had been another one of my students and hated me because of the fact that I could see what other teachers couldn't.

So, one night, when my wife and I were unaware, he had his revenge by taking what I loved most – my daughter. I woke up to my wife screaming, and we are still searching for her."

Aurora's eyes were as wide as dinner plates when she heard his story. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

Dumbledore smiled again. "But back to you. Lord Voldemort, as you say, was your caretaker as long as you could remember."

"He did not even give any care," she muttered.

"He was one of my students, but his harsh ways started even before he entered Hogwarts. He had the entire Slytherin House wrapped around his finger, as well as the support of some other students. Your mother was one of his recruits – but she had opposed him several times over."

Aurora's eyes widened again. "You knew my mum?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Yes. She was my best student."

All of a sudden, every single on of Aurora's thoughts jumbled together into 1 line.

"Wait…" she said slowly. "You said your wife was your best student. And then my mom was also your best student…so…so…you're…you two are my parents!" she ended in a rush.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I did not mention that Minerva was the person I loved."

Aurora waved it off. "Her expression made it too obvious."

Dumbledore chuckled, but Professor McGonagall now had tears openly flowing down her cheeks. "Aurora," she said.

She had never imagined her name could be said with so much love, with so much care.

"Aurora," repeated McGonagall - her mother. Her Mum. "Aurora Ariana Dumbledore. Your birthday is August 30, 1954."

"So…that means I just turned 11?"

Professor McGonagall could only nod.

There was a very pregnant pause. She stared at her shoes, McGonagall was crying, and Dumbledore's stare at her seemed to indicate that he was judging her next action.

"Is it ok…" she began. "If I call you Mum and Dad?"

At once, their faces had broken into the biggest smiles, despite the setting they were in.

"We would love that," said Dumbledore, answering for both of them.

She smiled awkwardly, but it did not quite reach here eyes. "Well, Mum…Dad…where do we go from here?"

Dumbledore and McG – no, her parents – exchanged a look that said everything she was thinking.

"I was hoping that you could tell me what has been happening these few days," said Dumbledore.

She closed her eyes, as if relishing the pain for a moment, and then spoke, but her voice was hauntingly quiet.

"I might have embarrassed Lucius Malfoy in Quidditch classes, so now he's telling everyone that I'm a Mudblood." Seeing the look on her faces, she added quickly, "No, not just that type of blood, but he's saying I'm half-vampire and my grades are good just because of that. So now everyone's listening to him and well…and they do stuff to me."

She felt an arm around her, and immediately knew it was her mother's arm. Cautiously, she leaned 10% of her weight into the embrace, and savored it as she savored the grip of Perry the peregrine falcon's grasp. It gave her a bit of confidence, made her a little less lonely.

"Aurora…" Minerva said. "I wish we'd been there for you…all these years gone, and we never got to see you grow and mature…" Even her mother – the infamously stony Professor McGonagall teared up a little at these thoughts.

"But know, we're here for you. Forever and always." She finished her sentence with a small smile, giving Aurora a sense of security, she had never felt before. A silence stretched between the three of them, but as they say – silence is power. And love is also power. A new kind of love sprouted between the tiny family, as they savored this bittersweet reunion.

Dumbledore spoke up. "I would wish you to return back to school now, Aurora. I will take care of Mr. Malfoy and the half-vampire rumors. On another note – do you want to tell others of your parentage?"

She thought for a moment and sighed. "I…I really don't know, dad. What do you think?"

By just calling him "Dad", she had uplifted both her parents' spirits by 500%.

"Your mother and I would be more than willing to."

"Then I'm in," she said.


	18. Chapter 18

Later, the three of them Apparated together back the gates of Hogwarts, and both of them escorted her to Gryffindor Tower before they returned to McGonagall's chambers.

"Dumbledore, I can't believe it," said Minerva in a blissful sort of happiness.

He smiled, and put an arm around her, feeling glad when she didn't pull away. "Neither can I," he said softly. "We're a family again."

The next morning, Aurora woke up with a new kind of energy, which even Dorcas Meadowes and Emmeline Vance seemed to notice. Vance was pretty nice – she seemed to ignore Malfoy's mania – but Dorcas, like most students their year, kept her distance from Aurora.

She bid a good morning to her stunned roomates before quickly getting dressed and hurrying to meet Andro in the Great Hall. Students were slowly gathering, and the staff was mindlessly chattering at their table.

In about 10 minutes, about the entire school had assembled, unaware that today was going to change everything. And that moment came when the bell-like clinging of a spoon against a glass rang through the hall, slicing through any other noise in the room.

"If I may have your attention, please, I have an announcement to make." Dumbledore's voice range strong and clear throughout the hall. Except this time, instead of sounding unusually pleasant, it was almost… _excited._

"My first announcement is an order. I have heard many of you guys thinking that one of us is part-vampire. I ask you now to dismiss this rumour, as it is completely false, but vampire or not – we should always, _always,_ be respectful of all creatures and people alike."

A moment of silence went through the hall, and many students looked uncomfortable and nodded vigorously in agreement at Dumbledore.

"It is only fair that I prove that these rumors are false. And I shall do this by confirming the parentage of the Aurora, the student at the center of this injustice." A pause, which seemed to have everyone on the edge of their seats. "I am proud to call myself her father. Her mother, my wife, is who you know as Professor McGonagall."

The whispers exploded into hundreds of different voices as the students struggled to process this information. It was like the latest Muggle celebrity gossip; Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the century, and McGonagall, the most distinguished, strict teacher in the world – had a child. A girl. And it was the girl they had called half-vampire. Man, they could be screwed.

Dumbledore patiently waited for the conversation to subside, wearing an idle smile on his face as he stared serenely at his daughter, who was looking at him with the most gratitude she could muster. That alone prompted him to stay alive – and truly _live._

"That will be all for today. Good luck in your classes and remember: tick tap!"

The mood after that morning could only describe as being drastically changed. Aurora instantly became some kind of celebrity, and people actually respected her. Well, respected was not the right word. They became much friendlier, but there was also that other group of students who hated her, purely out of jealousy. But, for the first time, she could believe that people actually enjoyed her presence.

And that was how it went for the rest of her first year. And the summer after that, she stayed with her parents at Hogwarts, and they journeyed to West Wittering and enjoyed a quiet week on the beach there, like a normal family would. And the second year was the same. And the third. And the fourth. By her fifth year, she had become quite a sensation – like her mother – and developed an extreme passion for Defense Against Dark Arts and Transfiguration. That could only be, given her parentage.

And as the years passed, as she grew and matured into a kind, passionate, young lady, she found a hobby in tutoring younger kids, who looked up to her as some sort of idol. Physically, although she wasn't a Quidditch player – even though she loved the sport – she grew into a lithe but elegant young lady, becoming such a striking image of her mother that sometimes, the only difference was their eye color. Sometimes, even her own father got them confused.

Despite the happy life of their tiny family, trouble had been brewing. Dumbledore's former student – the one he had seen through, he later told Aurora – had become dangerous to the point where he was affecting the Wizarding community with Dark Magic. As years passed, she could hear her parents discuss in worried, frantic voices behind closed doors, of one becomingly infamous wizard who went by Lord Voldemort. Although her mother and her father learn had yet to tell her anything, she learned, from their frequent meetings with other wizards and witches, 3 things: 1 – he was dangerous; 2 – he had recently allegedly murdered a pampered woman named Hepzibah Smith and quit his job at Borgin and Burkes; 3 – he was the exact same wizard who kidnapped her when she was 3 years old.

Whatever it was, she thought, it couldn't be anything that her parents couldn't handle. And if her parents could handle anything, she, their daughter, could do it. She delved into her studies, completing assignments days ahead of their deadline and began her own research into this Lord Moldyvort…her advantage to her parents was that she knew him personally, and had some knowledge of what he valued.

She began to spend hours during the summer before her seventh year locked in her father's office, pulling out memories from herself, memories she didn't even know she had. She jabbed at the silvery substance, pouring over the pensieve, and pondering.

One particular memory, struck her as something crucial to her research.

 _The small dungeon in which she had spent three, crucial years of her life in was particularly moist and dark today. My Lord – or Moldyvort, the young mind of Aurora had often referred to him as, sat in the corner, finding the one spot that was dry. In her hand clutched a somewhat moldy piece of bread, moldy that matched the gloomy color of the dungeon's walls. She didn't dare eat such a revolting piece of crap. Usually, there would have been blasts, smoke, and screams, screams of victims that Moldyvort had found and was "conducting research" on, as he had told her. Sometimes, he would be mixing foreign, unknown ingredients in weirdly shaped flasks, testing them on himself. How could she forget the horror of watching him slump to the ground for a few hours, after begging for thirst and water, a step away from death?_

 _But today, it was one of those unique days when he would spend hours upon hours without returning, until he came back with a new victim, a new source of screams._

 _All of a sudden, the door slammed, but instead of its usual frustration, this slam seemed to be of triumph. She could hear his eager steps._

 _"Look, you tramp! I have done it! I have the most valuable items in the history of the magical world!"_

 _In his right hand there was a small golden locket that had an S in the middle of it. In his left hand was a cup with 2 finely-wrought handles and a badger engraved on its side. She looked curiously at each item in turn._

 _"What's so valuable about a circle and a cup?"_

 _"Shut up, you stupid, silly girl."_

 _Over the next following days, Moldyvort did not seem to leave the dungeon at all, contrary to his usual daily – often overnight – excursions to gain knowledge, supplies, or whatever he might have done. The young girl spent her days imagining a friend, levitating the piece of moldy bread, or sometimes, if he came back, observing the man who had – in a way "raised" her._

 _Finally, there was one day when he stood in a place, stared at a wall, as if he was about to think of something that would change the history of humankind._

 _"Look, you tramp. I shall finally redeem myself as a worthy ancestor of the great Salazar Slytherin himself! I have saved his line from complete shame, from that tiny little village of my filthy mother," he said._

 _He muttered nothing but curses under his breath. She could only watch, astounded, as her six-year-old mind tried to comprehend the phenomenon – or what she had been told to believe._

 _Suddenly, a blast of wind blew at him, as he looked to the skies – or the low ceiling of the dungeon really – as a ghostly figure seemed to leave him and attached itself onto the locket in his outstretched hand._

 _He screamed, a sound so terrible that her ears literally bled._

 _"My Lord?" she called._

 _"QUIET, BASTARD!"_

 _A blast from his wand, and she was blown backward, but not unconscious. She watched as the grey smokey thing gently floated away and away from him, as if splitting the poor man in half…._

 _…and her memory blurred again._

 _Moldyvort now seemed more refreshed, more sure of what he was doing. Instead of more excursions, it seemed as if he cleaning up, piling ingredients and bottles and notebooks in a trunk and Vanishing any trace of their existence from the dungeon._

 _"My Lord?" she said softly, desperately hoping he was in one of his better moods. "What's happening?"_

 _An evil smile crossed his increasingly inhuman features. "Well, tramp, it seems like you are getting a new home."_


	19. Chapter 19

"Dad! What kind of spell cuts of a gray smokey thing from you brain and latches itself onto another object?"

Her father, who had been reading the lastest issue of _Transfiguration Today_ looked up, only moderately alarmed.

"Pardon me, Aurora. What's going one?"

"Is there any spell you know of that has a grey smokey thing coming from your head, and latching itself onto some object?"

"Interesting….describe the erm, 'grey smokey thing'".

She took a breath and started pacing around, reminding Dumbledore of the way he himself would spend hours upon hours unconsciously walking the same circles in this very office.

"It's not as pale as a ghost…but it's definitely just as transparent. But not as pellucid…and it's a lot more forceful…like a yank from the darkest corners of your mind or something."

She paused her pacing and observed her father's thoughtful expression, which had turned just a fraction grimmer.

"And this is something that Lord Voldemort has performed?"

She nodded. "Dad? What's going on?"

Her father closed the magazine and stroked his beard, turning his face so that he was staring at the window behind him. The light illuminated on his face for a half an instant, and for a moment, she could see all of the worries that weighed upon him. And in that split second, she was scared.

"Aurora, my dear. I promise I will tell you soon. If you could please give me some time to ponder?"

She stared at his figure in silence for a long moment, before nodding. "'Course."

Slowly she walked off, her brain whirling. Why had her father responded that way? Where had Lord Voldemort learned that spell? It definitely was not from Hogwarts – she knew nearly the entire seventh year curriculum already by heart – and nobody in their right mind would want carve out piece of their own self to an object….

To take out a piece of their own self…

Or, purposefully harming oneself….a thought occurred to her, as she recalled the most minute topics of her studies.

The very definition of Dark Magic was magic used to harm a victim. What if the victim was the caster himself? What if his "research" had been "pushing the boundaries of magic", as she had seen him tell her father, the time he asked him for a teaching position? What if his research – torturing people, killing people, with the screams she had spent those 3 years of her life hearing - had been in the name of Darkness? What if this entire time, he had been delving further and further into Dark Magic, right under her nose?

She suddenly froze as her hand reached for the door. The question was, what kind of Dark Magic? And how to defeat it?

She had to do her own research, then, if her father refused to tell her anything. But, as clueless as she was now, she knew that she would never delve into the Dark Arts. And that left only one source nearby….

The library. It was a good start, to begin where Tom Riddle would have likely spent most of his time researching the most illegal actions in the magical world.

She quickly walked down to the library, which was eerily empty and silent given that it was summer. She spent the afternoon scanning the entire Restricted Section, as it was common sense that a Dark Magic book would never be in an ordinary section.

By sundown, she was forced to conclude that the book wasn't there. In desperation, she thought, as she walked back to her bedroom…did that mean she had to find a Dark wizard to sit down and talk with?

She brushed her teeth and took a bath, lying down on the bed, trying to think of Tom Riddle as a student at Hogwarts.

He graduated as an honor student, a boy much admired by Armando Dippet, the headmaster back then.

Back then. Dippet was nowhere near the headmaster her father was…if he had been that ignorant, then he would not have removed the books.

She sat up. Of course, her father would have removed those books. Did he destroy them?

She reached for her wand, held it up, prayed to the heavens that what she was doing wasn't exactly stupid, and shakily murmured, " _Accio Dark Arts books_."

Nothing happened. For a minute or two, she thought that her newest theory had failed. She was only just putting her wand back on the dresser when a few books came flying through the window and crashed at her feet.

One of the books immediately started becoming inflamed. _Stupefy,_ she thought. The book silenced.

She picked up the biggest, most gruesome-looking moldy book, which gave her a strong memory of the Moldyvort's dungeon.

 _"_ _Secrets of the Darkest Art,"_ it read.

She turned on a lamp, and prepared herself a night of what was, what she now called, the worst book in the world.

Just by reading it she could already feel a sense of deepest disgust, combined with a freezing sense that this was wrong. It was similar to the way dementors made you feel, but now, your moral conscience was felt like it was breaking some ancient law.

She was only beginning to feel as if her effort was fruitless until she saw an ink illustration of an image frightening similar to that memory, in the dungeon with Moldyvort. A ghost-like figure coming out of a hooded wizard, towards an object – in that case, it was an opal necklace.

She stared at the drawing, and her eyes slowly switched to the title. "Horcruxes", it proudly proclaimed, as if the topic was something much revered. The very word sent a shiver down her spine, and she closed the book quickly after reading it, not wanting to spend another moment analyzing such dark text.

A Horcrux was a piece of one's soul, trapped in a physical object. No wonder Voldemort was so inhumane. If he himself was not whole, then how could his revere for other people be?

At the same time, Voldemort was not stupid. It was long known that his goal was power, complete, infinite power. And by creating a Horcrux, he had rendered himself nearly invincible. The most likely explanation for why he was never skilled – his exceptional wizardry – however evil, it could not be denied – and a line of defense – the Horcruxes.

But which object was it? Was it the cup? The locket? Or even worse – both? Did that mean he had found any more objects? Who would be insane enough to split themselves in half – in three parts?

Voldemort, it seemed, had defied their expectations, redefining the terms of the usual villain. Aurora had to clutch her chest as this train of thought rocked through her mind. Now, the question wasn't why, but how to put a stop to this insanity. Voldemort would not stop, and neither would she.


	20. Chapter 20

She made her choice then. She would not bring another person into this, unless she absolutely had to. And she, probably being one of only two people who new Voldemort best – the other being her father, his teacher – knew what he acted like, had observed him long enough to make an educated prediction.

So where would he hide it? The cave where she spent those three years of his life, most likely. As he had told her, it was the place of his "childhood vacations" and it had been his secret lair for so long. Of course, there was a good chance it meant something to him.

The next morning, she had put on a long, hooded cloak, after seeing the ghastly reflection in the mirror, and set out to return to the dungeon she had spent three years in.

"Going on a trip to London. Be back by sundown."

It only took her so long to snag one of the broomsticks from one of the Hogwart's Quidditch houses, and a little longer to fly to the entrance of that dungeon. It was only so far from the mountains near Ben Nevis, where she had lived alone until Dumbledore – her father – had come to save her…

All that was six years ago. And now, here she was, embarking on some illegal, self-centered mission, right before her seventh and final year of Hogwarts.

She did not realize how daunting the cave seemed until she finally arrived at the entrance of the cave. The crags and jacks of the rocks had gotten sharper, the lines running along it had gotten older. It had only become darker and gloomier, with the stone now possessing an slight evil-looking green tint that seemed to scream, "poison!"

She dismounted her broomstick and approached the stone door, symbols written on it…a blood sacrifice. Of course. How typical of Moldyvort, and the slow torture she had seen him enforce on victims. Force your enemy to lose a fraction of his strength before he attempts to take your valued token.

Pulling up the sleeve of her cloak, the pale skin of her arm seemed to directly contrast with the gloomy, foreboding atmosphere of the cave. With a cry, she slashed town her wand, and let the blood flow from her arm onto the door. It creaked open, as if invisible gears behind it had finally been active.

The door revealed more cubic-shaped rocks, as if this was Moldyvort's idea of home decoration. She suddenly felt her strength drain as she found herself facing another body of water, this time grayer, and a lot more dangerous, it seemed. An island sat in the middle, and she re-mounted her broomstick, ignoring the boat that sat there, patiently waiting to be ridden.

A simple basin filled with green potion lay on the barren island, with nothing else on the large rock. Was this the item?

With so many protective enchantments, she knew that Moldyvort had to be hiding something. Was this it?

With her arm, she reached into the green liquid, moving her hand around until she felt something cold and metallic, with a circular shaped and a chain attached to it.

The locket. The very Horcrux she had seen him create, by this very cave. Suddenly, a billion pieces seemed to click in place. And the potion – the potion she had also seen him create, tested on himself. The effect? Hours of moaning of thirst, a step away from death's open door.

The locked could not be pulled out, as if stitched there by some kind of impermeable glue. She sighed. Of course, Moldyvort would make his victims suffer.

She tucked her wand back in her robes, trying not to be repulsed by the idea of drinking a potion that had been sitting here for ages, a potion that she had also stuck her hand into. _Whoops. As long as it doesn't kill me, I guess._

After all, she had seen this very potion drunken by Lord Voldemort himself.

With a deep breath, she lifted the basin to her mouth, and drank a little over a half of it.

Even before she stopped gulping, her eyes were already stinging, and she could feel her skin drying up, her lungs gasping for air, her throat becoming parched and constricted. Her vision became clouded, and the deserted cave around her soon became a cell in a dungeon, with screams of victims echoing through the air.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see movements through the water….the water, which was not some kind of polluted puddle in a dungeon, but an enchanted, dangerous lake. At once, she knew that they weren't some kind of tropical fish.

Quickly, she grabbed her broom and jumped on it, flying over the lake, through the stone door, which had just started closing, and over a good deal of water. She could barely coordinate her movements, as it was so corrupted by Moldyvort's insults, curses, tortures…..and then Miss Cole, and the other bullying children…. _help._

She fought against the potion, struggling to maintain control of herself – of her broom – until she felt herself lean forward, fall onto solid stone. The wind – which had somehow grown ten times stronger – whisked her broom away, and she barely muttered, _"'_ _Specto Patronum", before darkness took over – darkness filled with murky screams…._

McGonagall and Dumbledore were in the Pensieve, staring at one of the classes Tom Riddle had taken. He was still young and handsome, but something dark and unforgivable had already crossed his gaze, as if he was destined for…inhumaneness.

"And that, I believe, shall conclude my lecture for today." A younger Dumbledore, this time with much fuller hair concluded happily. Neither of them could miss the quick glance he sent at Riddle, who looked at his teacher with a sort of disgusted contempt.

"He was certainly….an interesting student." Said McGonagall awkwardly as they rose out of the Pensieve.


	21. Chapter 21

McGonagall and Dumbledore were in the Pensieve, staring at one of the classes Tom Riddle had taken. He was still young and handsome, but something dark and unforgivable had already crossed his gaze, as if he was destined for…inhumaneness.

"And that, I believe, shall conclude my lecture for today." A younger Dumbledore, this time with much fuller hair concluded happily. Neither of them could miss the quick glance he sent at Riddle, who looked at his teacher with a sort of disgusted contempt.

"He was certainly….an interesting student." Said McGonagall awkwardly as they rose out of the Pensieve.

He chuckled. "That's one way of putting it. I was thinking, Minerva…."

He trailed off as a silvery object floated into the room, a figure barely defined, because of its mistiness.

It was a winged horse, but it wasn't the kind of innocent beauty that unicorns were. This one was gray, sleek, and its eyes shown with intelligence, and it had no glittering horn. A Granian winged horse, it was. And both of them only knew one person with this Patronus.

"Aurora," Dumbledore muttered.

The Patronus spoke, but it was in a voice barely comprehensible.

"Help. By the coast," it said, as if the person speaking it was on the brink of death.

It only took a fraction of a second for the two parents to overcome their shock and know what to do.

"Take us," muttered McGonagall.

The two of them followed – the Patronus's shimmering form gradually fading, but still beacon-like in the darkness – to a lonely cliffside, which seemed calm enough. A figure lay in the edge of the cliff, so close to the edge that her arm was drooping over the ledge.

"Aurora!" gasped aloud McGonagall.

Their daughter lay unconscious on the stone floor of the cliff. She didn't respond when they tried to shake her or use numerous types of awakening spells. Her face had turned gray, as if the trauma of some fight had drained all the blood and replaced it with darkness. Wordlessly, McGonagall sent a Patronus to the hospital wing, imploring Poppy to prepare a bed for her daughter.

Dumbledore gathered her in his arms, and with a panicked look at his wife, apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts, and the two of them ran to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey had barely just prepared the bed.

"Dumbledore? McGonagall? What's – oh! OH! Oh my dear Merlin…Aurora…Merlin…."

She gasped in shock as Dumbledore laid the girl down on the bed, her gray-colored face looking ghastly compared to the snowy white sheets of the hospital bed. It seemed to make everything ten times worse.

"An explanation?"

McGonagall put a hand on her daughter's cheek – which was colder than usual. Dumbledore bowed his head somberly. "She sent us a barely corporeal Patronus. We found her like this."

"She must have been in some kind of fight – but this looks like some kind of Dark Magic – wait, what was Aurora doing?"

This time, McGonagall replied. "We don't know. But by the gods, Aurora would never study the Dark Arts!"

"No, I don't believe that's the case. Can you get her conscious, Poppy?"  
"Oh. Oh – yes, of course." Madam Pomfrey said, suddenly much more alert.

With a gentle hand, she raised Aurora's chin and tilted a goblet of bright, green, Wiggenweld Potion into Aurora's mouth. McGonagall put her head against Dumbledore, leaning against his tall, grim, and unmoving frame.

She put the empty goblet on the table, took a step back, raise her wand, and said, " _Rennervate."_

Aurora's eyes opened, at once, something felt different. Why did she feel so weak? Why was there a pale, warm-colored stone wall in front of her? And why was she lying on a –

She was in the hospital wing. Part of her relaxed at the feeling of being in safe hands, and the other part of her was instantly anxious to know who brought her here. She raised her gaze, and at once met the somber gaze of her parents, and the worried look of Madam Pomfrey.

"'Ay. Dad. Mum. Madam Pomfrey." She said awkwardly, attempting to break the ice.

Dumbledore rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her, and the side of her that was anxious immediately relaxed. Here, she was safe, and nothing would ever harm her.

Her mother, however, although smiled slightly, retained her somber, serious gaze.

"Miss Dumbledore, do you know how much trouble you are in?"

She sighed. "Yeah. The level where I'm about to get another lecture."  
Madam Pomfrey chuckled nervously from the other side.

"You could have been killed! Injured permanently! Who knows what could have happened, and did you care what your father and I thought?"

"Now, now Minerva, I don't want to traumatize Aurora just yet." Dumbledore said gently. "Poppy, if you may give us a moment?"

"Oh – yes. Yes, of course, Professor."

She only seemed too eager to leave. Dumbledore, waited patiently, keeping his eyes on his daughter.

"Aurora, before anything, I must first know what happened tonight."

"Albus – she must –"

"Yes, Minerva, but she must understand first. We don't know, and she doesn't know the extent of it either. Understanding is the first part of the process."

"Very well, then. Aurora, continue."

For the next hour, Aurora spoke in rapid silence, starting from the time she started her own research, poking at memories, to the scene in Dumbledore's office, to her search through books and scrolls as to what it might be. And then her collection of thoughts, how she realized that it had been Horcruxes that Voldemort had been creating, and deduced the location and tried to go after it.

Dumbledore listened intently, and Minerva's expression became more and more horrified to the point where she was almost afraid to get out the next word. But by the time she finished, her father looked proud.

"Dad? Mum? I'm sorry," she ended.

"Sorry? On the contrary, you just be quite proud of yourself. You have opened a door for our side, a door that I myself did not know of. Yes, I am proud of you, but I would appreciate it if you would share more information with your mother and myself."

She bowed down her head. "My bad. I'll tell you if I have another stunning revelation."

The three of them chuckled. "Madam Pomfrey will come and bring you a Sleeping Draught. You should make it your first goal, if you wish to return to the school year."

She perked up. "Yes, of course!"

Her mother nodded. "Please, Aurora, don't scare us like that. I couldn't bear it…if you left again. But rest well, for now, and know that all actions do have consequences."

Her parents started walking towards the door, before Dumbledoor looked back and said, "Aurora? You have your mother's brains."

Minerva blushed as the door shut behind to two of them, leaving a smiling Aurora. Madam Pomfrey came in, carrying a warm goblet of light purple liquid.

"Drink up, dear, it'll give you a dreamless sleep."

The last thing Aurora could remember was feeling of falling back onto a soft pillow, and how good it was compared to the cold stone of that cliff…


End file.
